


In All Chaos, There Is Calculation

by obsessiveshipper09



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lyanna Is Alive, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar lives, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Sexual Content, Slash, miniscule amounts of angst, unrealistic happy endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 46,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessiveshipper09/pseuds/obsessiveshipper09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert's Rebellion did a great deal of damage to the Seven Kingdoms and the reign of the Targaryens but not as much as one would think. It's four years later and as Robert Baratheon has little concern for keeping the Kingdoms together, a certain spider takes it upon himself to give the realm the kind of peace that can only be had under Targaryen Rule.</p><p> </p><p>*Varys isn't the main character, just one that ties everyone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So first of all, of course, I do not own anything from A Song of Ice and Fire, or Game of Thrones, those belong to the brilliant George R. R. Martin and...Dave and Dan? HBO? Regardless, not mine. There will be original characters in this, those are mine, but names and what-not will most likely be inspired from the books or the show. And I doubt I'll write the existing characters to everyones specifications, how could I? So please excuse things that are too non-canon for you.  
> Now, this is the first thing I've ever posted on here or anywhere else someone can read it. I write fragments of stories all the time and rarely finish them or go anywhere with them because I get distracted way too easily, but I'm really going to try with this one. Please, please, please be nice! And this isn't beta'd so I will try my best to fix errors, if you spot some (grammar or fact-related) just let me know.  
> I'll tag more characters and put in the relationships later...I'm honestly not too sure where I'm going with this and I reserve the right to change relationships after I've posted them. I think there will probably be an assortment of canon and non-canon, I do like the occasional underrated ship. Also, I'm a big fan of happy endings so chances are, no tragic deaths will occur in this but who knows.  
> Finally, if you're one of those readers who get irrationally angry when a story isn't updated at least once a week (I am), then maybe you shouldn't read this? I'm not that reliable, sorry. I'll try, I promise, but we'll see.  
> Oh and I change timelines and ages and births, etc. Not too much, but enough to fit my ideas.

Lord Varys, Master of Whispers in King’s Landing, sat in his solar of the Red Keep, a small satisfied smile lighting his face. Finally, after the stress and chaos of the Rebellion and then the few years of recuperation, his plans were coming to fruition. His little birds reported nothing but positives on those he had hidden around the world and it would soon be time for a reunion. 

There were murmurings of unrest throughout the Seven Kingdoms, as per usual, but lately they were getting worse. The small folk had little love for their increasingly drunk Baratheon King, and even less for his cruel, beautiful Queen. The Lords of the Crownlands still maintained their Targaryen loyalty, albeit somewhat privately, and the Dornish still boiled with rage at the deaths of their Princess and her children. The Tyrell’s cared only for their own ambitions and the Greyjoys, although polar opposites of the Reach Lords, had similar aims. The Baratheon allies in the Vale, the North, and the Riverlands were rather content, only sometimes wondering if they had done the right thing by putting Robert on the throne. The Lannisters were of course the most comfortable. Their Lord’s daughter was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and his grandson would someday be King. 

King Robert and Queen Cersei had just welcomed their second child, a golden princess, and Varys knew full well that both she and her brother were no true Baratheons. He has told no one, of course, preferring to save that bit of information for a suitable time. He had many bits of information, never-heard stories, unknown facts, that he would reveal to the right people at the right time, all in the name of a peaceful realm.

Thinking back to the Rebellion, Varys wondered how his plans had ever succeeded. When he first arrived in King’s Landing, he tried to curb the madness of King Aerys II to little avail. When he realized there was no hope for the Mad King, he put all of his efforts into the Crown Prince, Rhaegar. He knew of the Prince’s plans for the tourney of Harrenhall and then helped him adjust when the plans went awry. He knew the truth of the Lyanna Stark scandal and helped conceal it from most everyone. He knew of the Prince’s preoccupation with the prophecy and helped him gain a better, and less obsessive, understanding of it. Prince Rhaegar was to be the greatest ruler the realm had ever known, Varys was determined. 

Then the little rat, Petyr Baelish, entered the game. Littlefinger, as Varys had affectionately named him, was a ward of Lord Hoster Tully and therefore, present when Lady Lyanna Stark disappeared from Riverrun. When the outrage of her “kidnapping” began to get out of hand, Varys became suspicious. It was most unlike the Prince of Dragonstone to not have a back-up plan so he found it very difficult to believe that the prince and his new lady wife had not told anyone the truth of their relationship. After investigating the matter, his little birds discovered that Petyr Baelish had destroyed the letter Princess Lyanna left for her eldest brother and instead told him he saw the Crown Prince kidnap her. 

From that moment, Varys feared for the Targaryen Dynasty and the Realm. He knew trouble would come from this but even he hadn’t anticipated the Mad King’s decision to murder Lord Stark and his heir. For months after that, war split the Seven Kingdoms. Men fought for their Lords both willingly and unwillingly, Great families were separated and broken, Princes and Princess were kept hostages and a tense fear had settled over the realm. It took all of his influence and knowledge, more allies and favors than he knew he had, and no small amount of deceit and manipulation, but Varys managed to save and hide the Targaryen legacy.

And soon it would be time. Time for the Dragons to reunite to win back their ancestor’s greatest achievement. For the Seven Kingdoms would tear themselves and each other apart if they didn’t. Only a Targaryen could unite the Realm.


	2. Rhaegar I

_3rd month of the 285th year AL_

_My King,_

 

_Westeros is becoming increasingly unstable under the Usurper’s rule. It shan’t be long before a new war breaks out over something or other. Mayhap the Greyjoys will rebel again. Or the Martells will grow tired of containing their younger prince’s ire and set him loose on the Lannisters. Regardless, you will soon be needed._

_I trust you are still being treated more than well by my friend the Magister. He sends me updates that your young siblings are growing quickly, happy and healthy. Although I am a bit concerned by his reports on Prince Viserys. You must not allow him to become your father, my King._

_My friends around Essos are helping us prepare for the return of the Dragons and will soon be sending you a gift, several in fact. Do not be anxious my King, I assure you, these gifts are most precious._

_As for your allies here in Westeros. The Lords of the Crownlands are just biding their time, granted they believe your younger brother to be the rightful King, but they will rally even further when they learn the truth of your survival. The Tyrells will also join your cause, as I have been assured by a certain Queen of Thorns, as long as one or two of her grandchildren marry into your Royal Family. The Riverlands will be yours once you have gained the North and the lords of the Vale will be neutral at worst._

_Do not fret, Your Grace, I know you worry about our southern and northern-most kingdoms, but they will be your staunchest allies. In fact, I strongly advise you make for Winterfell first upon your return to Westeros._

_Give my regards to your brother and sister, as well as the Queen Dowager. Until next time, my King,_

 

_The Spider_

 

Rhaegar sighed as he finished the letter. They were good tidings, truly, but he worried none the less. As much as he wanted to regain his birthright and give peace to the realm, he wasn’t keen on another war. The last one took nearly everyone he loved and left the country broken and bleeding. As much as his mother disagrees, he knows his actions caused the Rebellion. Of course those of his father did little to stop it but the most blame belongs to him.

By no means does he regret those actions though. He loved Lyanna with all of his heart and he will never regret marrying her. But…he should have spoken to her family first, as well as his father. Her betrothal to Robert Baratheon could have been revoked by the Iron Throne and Rhaegar could have went to Lord Rickard himself and asked for Lyanna’s hand. He hadn’t thought of this though. He had asked the permission of his mother, Queen Rhaella, and his wife, Princess Elia, but thought little of anyone else.

Dreams of what he perceives happened to both of his wives and their children haunt his nights. He swears vengeance on Tywin Lannister and his men, Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch. As well as Maester Pycelle. But Lyanna…Who could he punish for what happened to his beloved she-wolf and their child that never took a breath. Their fates were his own fault, he knows. He shouldn’t have left her in that tower. He shouldn’t have left Elia either. If he had just sent them all safely away from Kings Landing…

But he cannot change the past, only plan for the future. He will avenge them all. His friends and allies, the people loyal to him, and most importantly, his wives and children.

 

After responding to Varys’ letter, he ventured into the gardens of Illyrio’s estate. He still remembers waking up here, confused and disoriented after being wounded by Robert Baratheon’s warhammer. There on the Trident, he was certain he was a dead man and he raged internally at being defeated by the Stormlord. However, his loyal knights, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent managed to drag him to safety that night, exchanging his body for that of a random Blackfyre. Lord Varys had procured the body and helped the knights take Rhaegar to a safe house before sailing to Dragonstone. Baratheon and his troops, so caught up were they in Robert’s victory, never noticed a thing.

His knights claim he woke up but once, on Dragonstone, just before they, the pregnant Queen, and the young Prince departed for Pentos. They said Rhaegar asked for his children, all three of them, before falling back into unconsciousness. He next awoke in a comfortable bed in a lavish room, Arthur dozing in a chair next to him.

It was then that he learned of the fates of his first wife and their children. Arthur told him how by the time they reached King’s Landing, Lannister troops were entering the city gates, so they snuck around and boarded a ship to Dragonstone. It wasn’t until they reached Magister Illyrio’s Mance that they received tidings from Westeros.

His father was betrayed and then murdered by his Kingsguard. Rhaenys, his sweet girl, was found in his own rooms, and stabbed half a hundred times. His little prince was torn from Elia’s arms and smashed against the wall by the monster of a man who then raped his gentle, lovely wife before killing her. The entirety of King’s Landing was sacked by the Lannisters; men, women, and children killed and raped and beaten. Rhaegar listened to his closest friend, tears streaming down his face and rage boiling in his blood.

Refusing to leave his rooms out of grief and anger, it wasn’t until a fortnight later when Rhaegar regained the will to live. More tidings were brought to him. Lord Eddard Stark, after having left Robert in King’s Landing out of outrage at the deaths of Rhaegar’s family, had found his sister and brought her home. To the crypts beneath Winterfell. No mention was made of the child she carried so Rhaegar could only assume his little prince or princess was lost as well.

It was at this point that Rhaegar truly believed he had nothing to live for. His two loves were dead. His children were dead. The realm was bleeding and exhausted. There was no point in going home when there was nothing left for him in Westeros. Then, his mother went into labor. After almost two days in the birthing bed, Queen Rhaella was weak, but would recover, and Princess Daenerys let out a shrill cry amidst the sounds of a storm raging outside the walls. Then Rhaegar made his decision.

He would live. He would fight. He would wait for the right moment to win back his father’s throne. Not for himself, but for his younger siblings. He would not marry again and he would have no more children, but Viserys and Daenerys would marry for love and bring their own little dragons into the world. His family would continue its dynasty.

 

Rhaegar spent hours in the gardens, thinking and wondering and planning, before he sought out his mother. The Queen Dowager was often seen as a weak, broken woman, and perhaps she was for a time, but the birth of her daughter had relit her fire just as it had Rhaegar’s. She regained the life and will she possessed before suffering at her brother’s hands and became the King’s trusted advisor. His mother was more capable than he had ever realized and had an intelligence that he greatly admired.

“Mother,” Rhaegar walked into her solar, passing by Ser Oswell standing guard in the hall. “ Varys has sent another letter.” He kissed her gently on the cheek before handing over the letter and sitting opposite her at her desk. He watched her face, void of change or emotion as she read.

“I wonder what he means by gifts. Lord Varys’ Essosi friends are sometimes questionable,” she raised her eyebrow at him as she returned the letter. He knew she was thinking of their host, Magister Illyrio. The man had of course always been most kind to them, but he was indeed strange.

“I wondered at that as well. Alas, I do trust Varys, odd as that may seem. His concerns about Viserys…Mother, I’m not sure what else to do. Father isn’t here to influence him and yet he still behaves alarmingly like him.” Rhaegar loved his brother dearly, but each day Viserys was beginning to resemble Aerys more and more, and not just in appearance. His treatment of their younger sister was often violent and he seemed to be attached to the idea of marrying her, although Rhaegar and Rhaella had both forbidden it.

“I know, my darling. I hope he will outgrow this personality. If not…you will have to make Daenerys your heir and I’m not sure what Westeros will say of that,” Rhaella chewed her bottom lip as she thought. Rhaegar appreciated more than he could say that she did not so much as suggest he remarry and produce an heir.

“If that’s what must be done, then so be it. Mayhap she can marry a Tyrell or a Martell, to solidify an alliance. I’m not sure why Varys thinks Dorne will be supportive of me. Elia and I never had the chance to tell them the truth of my marriage to Lyanna. The North, too. Varys promises this support but I burnt many bridges before leaving Westeros.” He stood and went to the window gazing down into the gardens where four year old Daenerys was being chased about by her septa. Thoughts of his lost family bringing sadness to him again.

He felt his mother come to stand next to him, her head resting on his shoulder as she too watched the young princess.

“Soon, my son. We will return home soon. We will show those who hurt us just how resilient and dangerous the dragons truly are.”

 


	3. Arthur I

Ser Arthur Dayne stood in the training yard of the Mopatis estate, watching in disappointment as Prince Viserys was knocked to the ground for the tenth time. The young prince showed little promise in his skills with a sword and little interest in improving.

“You give up too easily, my Prince,” Arthur observed as he helped the eleven year old boy to his feet. “You must commit, fight until you can no longer.”

“There is no point, Ser,” Viserys threw his wooden practice sword at the Master of Arms before turning back to face Arthur. “I’m the Crown Prince, Rhaegar’s heir. Who would dare hurt the dragon? Besides what is the point of being King if you can’t make others fight for you?” With that, he stomped away to the gardens to find, and most likely torment, his little sister. Arthur sighed and followed after his charge.

He knew the King and Queen Dowager worried endlessly about the young Prince, and rightfully so. Arthur could already see that he was too much his father, from his overlarge sense of entitlement to his treatment of his sister, Viserys was Aerys II come again. When he reached the gardens he stood by as Septa Rose settled an argument between the two young siblings and looked up to see King Rhaegar and Queen Rhaella watching the scene from a window, frowns on their faces.

Sighing again, Arthur gazed around the garden and thought on how they had ended up here. He ached to return home, to visit Starfall and his two remaining siblings. He had not seen them in so long and he worried that he would lose one of them before getting the chance to tell them he was still alive. He knows Westeros believes he and Ser Oswell died at the Trident with Rhaegar, but he wishes he could have told his older brother and youngest sister the truth. They had already lost one sibling, he hates that he hurt them further with his supposed death.

His thoughts turn toward Ashara, his beautiful, bold sister. She was Princess Elia’s closest friend, so he spent much time with her in the Red Keep. He remembers, he had just left King’s Landing, heading to fight the Rebels at the Trident, when he learned of her death.

Ashara had gotten with child at Harrenhall. She never told him who the father was, but he knew it was the eldest Stark. When he found out about her condition, King Aerys banished her from the capitol and so she left for Dorne mere weeks before Brandon Stark and his father were executed. Arthur had not been there to see her as he was on Dragonstone, in secret, with Prince Rhaegar, Princess Elia, and Princess Lyanna. He knew she must have been devastated to learn of the Wild Wolf’s death and he figures the stress of that, along with Elia and the children’s deaths months later, contributed to the loss of her child. She had seemed so enamored with the Stark heir at Harrenhall. He had tried to warn her away from him. After all, Brandon Stark was betrothed to Catelyn Tully and he was soon going to help his Prince break a different Stark betrothal, he didn’t want to be involved in another. But Ashara had looked so happy to be in Brandon’s company that Arthur couldn’t fault her too much. Those were the last days he spent with his little sister.

As per usual, thoughts of Ashara and Harrenhall turn to thoughts of Lyanna Stark Targaryen. He still mourns her death almost as much as Ashara’s, but large amounts of guilt mix in with his grief. He was at Rhaegar’s side when the Prince decided to pursue Lyanna, then again when they ran away together. Arthur was one of the witnesses to their marriage on Dragonstone, along with Elia and Queen Rhaella. From that moment, he was to be Lyanna’s sworn shield, Rhaegar had commanded.

The three of them, along with Ser Oswell, quietly left Dragonstone and headed towards what Rhaegar named the Tower of Joy, in Dorne. The plan was for Elia and Rhaella to gather the children and leave for Dorne a fortnight later, escorted by Prince Llewyn Martell and Ser Gerold Hightower. But then Aerys murdered the Lord of Winterfell and his heir, plunging the realm into war. Elia and Rhaella were held prisoners in the Red Keep and the Mad King was demanding his son’s return.

Rhaegar had not wanted to leave the new Princess as she was still grieving for the loss of her family, but she assured him she was alright and insisted he return to the capitol to rescue his own family. So, not two turns of the moon after they left Dragonstone, Prince Rhaegar left the Tower of Joy to attempt to fix what he had inadvertently caused. Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell were commanded to guard Princess Lyanna and the child she had just discovered that she carried and so the three of them waited in the desert for news from the war.

A fortnight later, Ser Gerold arrived. King Aerys had sent him to look for Rhaegar and having passed the Prince on his journey, he was ordered to join the younger two knights and await the rest of the Royal Family. Rhaegar had hopes of reaching the capitol and distracting his father long enough for Elia, the Queen and the children to escape to Dorne. So again, they waited.

Arthur grew restless though, they all did. Lyanna thought it ridiculous that three of them guard her, and they agreed, so he and Ser Oswell rode North, either to help the women and children or go into battle with Rhaegar. It wasn’t until months later, on a ship to Dragonstone with Ser Oswell and the gravely wounded Rhaegar, that Arthur thought of Princess Lyanna being in possible danger. But at that point, he had little concern for anyone but his close friend and rightful King.

To this day, however, he wonders what what have happened if he and his fellow sworn brother had stayed with the Princess. Would she and her child have lived? Would Ser Gerold? What about Rhaegar, who would have stolen him away from the battlefield had he and Oswell not been there? The questions torment him, truly, but nowhere near as much as the memory of the look on Rhaegar’s face when he learned of Princess Lyanna’s death.


	4. Rhaella I

“You wanted to see me, Mother?”

Rhaella looked up from her letters to see her youngest son standing in the doorway to her solar. She put away her work and gestured for Viserys to sit across from her. When he did so, she looked at him, sad and resigned.

“Viserys, how many times must I tell you not to treat your sister so? Septa Rose told me you pushed Dany to the ground this afternoon before trying to kick her? What were you thinking?” When the woman had come to the Queen with the account, she begged Rhaella to do something about the malicious young prince, fearing how much worse it could have been.

Viserys scowled before raising his chin defiantly. “That Septa should mind her own business. I am a dragon and she is far beneath me. Father always said that the dragons answer to no one and when I’m King, Dany will be my Queen, she must learn to obey me or-“

“Viserys!” Rhaella interrupted her son, shocked at his words and beyond worried about what else he had to say. “You will _not_ be marrying your sister. That particular tradition has brought more bad fortune than good. And you must forget the things you’ve learned from your father. If ever there is a King you don’t want to emulate, it is him.” Viserys pouted a bit at that and turned his face away from his mother. Rhaella sighed. She wanted to be truthful with her son but perhaps he was still too young. “My sweet, your father was an ill man, his mind was not right and he made very poor decisions because of it. I do not want you to make his same mistakes, do you understand?”

Viserys nodded slightly, quickly glancing up at her before returning his gaze out the window.

“Now, you will apologize to your sister and to Septa Rose in the morning and you will help the stable boys muck out the stalls for the rest of the week as your punishment.” He began to protest at that, indignation written all over his face, surely about to exclaim that his princely status should keep him from such tasks. “Prince or not, Viserys, you were very rude and you need to be taught a lesson. Report to the stables after you break your fast.”

With that, she gave him leave and watched as he stomped out of the room. Shaking her head in exasperation at her wayward child, Rhaella stood and readied herself for bed. Tomorrow, she and Rhaegar must find a solution for the young prince’s behavior.

 

The following day, Rhaella entered Rhaegar’s solar to break their fast together. She told him of Viserys’ actions towards Daenerys as well as his words to Rhaella the previous night.

“There’s little we can do now. Fostering him would have been my first suggestion but not here in Essos.” Rhaegar pursed his lips thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the table. Rhaella prayed to the Seven for the hundredth time for Viserys to become more like his kind, quiet elder brother. “For now though, he must be kept away from Dany at all times. Clearly, having Septa Rose present does not deter his behavior in the slightest.”

“Yes, I agree. Separate schedules and lessons and the like. It is for the best,” she sighed. Before Rhaegar was born, Rhaella dreamed of a household full of children, all of them close and protective of each other. But of course, the gods saw fit to save only three of her babes and Aerys had an overwhelming influence on her youngest son. She thought with her brother gone, her children would be safe. She never considered one of them would develop his own madness.

“Rhaegar!” A small, pale blur came flying into the room with a shriek, interrupting the quiet meal. Rhaegar looked up and an adoring smile lit his face at the sight of his little sister. Rhaella sighed in relief, at least two of her children got along.

“Dany, what can I do for you little princess?” Rhaegar pulled away from the table slightly to bring Daenerys onto his lap, securing her in his arms. Rhaella was reminded of how he used to hold Rhaenys the same way and quickly shook away the thought, her throat tight.

“You said you would teach me to play the harp today,” she reminded him, a slight lisp in her high childish voice. Rhaella smiled and rose from her chair, leaving her oldest and youngest to discuss their plans for the day. She made to leave the room then stopped in the doorway and turned back to look at them, the doting King and his idolizing little sister.

 

Walking the halls of Illyrio’s estate calmed the former Queen. She used to do the same in the Red Keep, usually to avoid her husband and his violent acts. She would wander without any particular destination, learning more about the Red Keep than any book could ever tell. Her mind would drift and she would try to remember that she was Queen Rhaella Targaryen, daughter of King Jaehaerys II, not just the broken wife of the Mad King. And now, she used the walk to remind herself that Viserys was not just her son, but Aerys’ as well.

He could not become King after Rhaegar, she was sure of that. He would ruin whatever they plan to build. She shuddered slightly at the thought of telling him this. He would fly into a rage, just as his father often did. To placate him, they could marry him to Princess Arianne Martell, heir to Sunspear. But even the thought of having him in Westeros worries her. What would he do to Dany after she and Rhaegar are gone? Anyone who opposed Rhaegar or Daenerys could easily manipulate Viserys, he would need little motivation to attempt to take the throne from either of his siblings.

Sighing in resignation, Rhaella knew that she would just have to keep a constant eye on him once they returned home. Maybe foster him as Rhaegar said. Only time will tell how willing she will be to inflict her youngest son’s moods on another family.


	5. Eddard I

_She will arrive within the year._

 

Lord Eddard Stark clutched the small piece of paper so tightly it nearly tore. A year. Maybe less. That’s how long it would be until he saw his sister again. He breathed a shuddering sigh and dropped to the ground in front of the weirwood tree. _Keep her safe, please_.

The last time he looked upon his little sister, they were both covered in blood, she in her own and he in others. She was fading quickly and the two handmaidens with her were urging him to quickly say his goodbyes before it was too late. He remembers trembling in exhaustion and desperation, just wanting to hold his sister to him a little longer. He didn’t know when he would see her again, or if she would even survive. Lord Varys had made plans, the handmaidens there to carry them out, and Ned had grudgingly accepted them, knowing it was best for his sister.

So, he said his goodbyes. He made promises. Then he instructed Howland Reed, the only other living person around other than his sister and her handmaidens, to carry the body they would claim to be Lyanna Stark’s. As he left the tower and walked passed the bodies of Ser Gerold Hightower and the three northmen who he had killed, he gazed down at the small babe in his arms and sighed in relief when his eyes met grey rather than purple.

He, Howland, and the wet-nurse they acquired for his nephew travelled North with a body of an unknown woman, bypassing King’s Landing completely. When he was safely passed the Neck, he wrote to Robert of Lyanna’s death and made a brief mention of the discovery of his own bastard son. Robert had begged and almost demanded that Lyanna be put to rest in King’s Landing or Storm’s End but Ned refused on the grounds of her having been an unmarried, maiden of Winterfell.

When they reached the home that he hadn’t seen in years, Ned introduced his bastard son, Jon, to his only remaining sibling, Benjen. To this day, he swears Benjen saw straight through Ned’s lies, but said nothing. After installing the wet-nurse and Jon in the Keep, Ned went to the godswood and stayed until early the next morning.

It was three turns of the moon later when, amidst another tense morning meal with his silently raging wife, he received word assuring him of Lyanna’s survival and her continued safe-keeping. He wanted to beg for her to be brought home but with Robert as King, it wasn’t safe. Not then anyway.

But now, now his sister was coming home. He vaguely wondered why the spider thought it was safe for her to return to Winterfell now but not four years ago, but he was just too happy to brood on it for long. He also wasn’t sure what they would tell Jon when she arrived. Would Lyanna want to tell her son the truth? Or would it be safer if Jon continued to think he was a Snow, not a Targaryen prince? Well, it was a while before he had to think on that.

Standing, Ned brought the letter to the flame of the torch he was carrying before making his way back to the keep. He walked by Jon’s room to discover he and Robb fast asleep on the large bed, curled up beside each other. Smiling at the pair, Ned entered the room and stood for a moment, hoping his boys would always share this brotherly bond. He sighed, knowing Catelyn would not be pleased with these sleeping arrangements, before he picked up Robb’s small body and carried him into his own room down the hall. Placing a kiss on the five year old’s head, he left and made his way towards the nursery.

Entering the room, he frowned as he found his heavily pregnant wife attempting to carry their three year old daughter, Sansa.

“Don’t Cat, let me.” He scooped up the sleeping little girl and placed her in her bed. Turning back to his wife, he was met with her scowl. “My love, you know it’s not safe to be lifting the children this far into your pregnancy.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, Ned, but it was only a few feet,” she protested as she tried to lean down to kiss Sansa’s head but instead settled for petting her hair when it proved too difficult. Ned hid his amusement as he led his wife to their chambers.

“Regardless, wait for me next time.” Rather than replying, she strode ahead of him without a word.

Sighing, Ned followed at a calmer pace, knowing her irritation with him would be gone by morning. Something about this particular pregnancy was making her much more short-tempered, an unusual trait for his lady wife.

 

The next day was spent teaching Robb and Jon to ride. They were of course on small ponies rather than horses, but the two were delighted all the same. It never ceased to amaze Ned how much he enjoyed making his children smile, or how proud he was when they accomplished something as small as sitting a saddle correctly. He, Benjen, Jory and Rodrik Cassel, and Maester Luwin surrounded the boys as they steered their ponies every which way, all of them basking in the childish giggles and small expressions of determination. Jon’s stubborn face in particular, greatly amused him. The four year old looked so much like Lyanna in that moment.

It was just as Robb almost slipped from his saddle in excitement that Catelyn came out of the keep.

“Robb!” She hurried over and reached their son just as Jory was getting him settled again. Pushing Jory’s hands away, Catelyn ran her own over Robb, assuring herself he was alright. Ned, sensing an outburst from his temperamental wife, wandered over, leaving Benjen in charge of Jon.

“Cat-“

“Don’t!” She whirled around, ordering Maester Luwin to take Robb inside and attend to his other lessons. Once the boy was out of earshot, her gaze met Ned’s own. “These are the kinds of things that happen when you don’t watch him! He’s your son! You should have kept an eye on him at all times, not splitting your focus between him and your ba-“

“Lady Stark,” Benjen interrupted. Ned spun to see that his brother had sent Jon inside with the Maester as well and sighed in relief. “Please refrain from saying that word in my or my nephew’s presence. And your concerns, although understandable, are unnecessary. There were five men out here watching over just two boys on ponies too old to move faster than a glacier. We had the situation well in-hand.”

Catelyn glared at her good-brother before looking back to her husband. Ned knew she expected him to speak up on her behalf but he could not condone her hatred of Jon. He met her gaze, his silence speaking louder than words. She stormed off back to the keep and he hoped she would not interrupt the boys’ lessons to separate them further.

Turning back to his brother, he nodded and whispered his gratitude.

“I know she is your lady wife but her treatment of him is unfair. He is but a child, and even despite her obvious hatred, he still tries to please her. It isn’t right, Ned.” With that, his little brother marched off to the godswood.

Deciding to get some work done now that his day was free, Ned made his way to his solar, mind racing. He would soon have to tell Catelyn the truth, he would tell Benjen first, of course. It was only right. He worried his brother would hate him for keeping their sister’s survival a secret, though. At first, he thought Benjen too young and too grief-stricken still over their father and Brandon. But then, the longer he put it off, the more difficult it became to tell the truth. And with Catelyn, he barely knew her when she first arrived in Winterfell with their one year old son, he wasn’t sure he could trust her. When he grew to love her, he worried about her safety and that of his children if they were ever found out by Robert. Still, sometimes he wishes he had told her, just to prevent the hurt he sees flash across Jon’s face when he is rejected or unfairly reprimanded by Lady Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels kind of lacking. I'm not sure what it's missing though so I may have to come back later and edit it.


	6. Lyanna I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing! This is getting way more attention than I expected so thank you thank you thank you. More notes at the end!!

The arrow made a pleasing swish through the air and an even more satisfying _thwack_ as it came into contact with the animal. Princess Lyanna Stark Targaryen lowered her bow, a small smirk gracing her lips as she moved closer to her prey. Maneuvering the bow around her shoulder, Lyanna knelt over the dead stag, a grim sort of satisfaction mixing with the slight guilt she felt over killing the innocent creature. She reclaimed her arrow, standing straight again, but her gaze never strayed from the antlered beast.

“A stag, little sister?” Her brother’s amused bark of laughter startled her more than it should have, so lost in thoughts as she had been.

“Yes, Brandon. What of it?” She turned to him, raising a dark brow as he lifted his hands in surrender. “That’s what I thought. Now, be a gentleman and carry this back to the keep.” Before she even got out the sentence, she darted back to where the horses were tethered, quickly mounted, and pushed the black stallion to near impossible speeds. Her laughter filled the forest with that of Brandon’s outraged protests as she raced home.

It was another hour before Brandon stomped into the keep after having delivered the game to the kitchens. Lyanna giggled from her place curled up on the lounge in the library as he threw himself down into the sofa opposite her.

“You’re a menace. I used to think you would grow out of being such a pain in my ass but here you, twenty years old and still making my life hell,” he said all this with his face buried in the cushions so the words came out jumbled but Lyanna caught most of it. She hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to read her book. “What are you reading now?”

“A detailed account of the reign of King Jaehaerys II,” she replied, never taking her eyes away from the words. Brandon said nothing. He was very much accustomed to her reading everything she could find on the Targaryens. It was her favorite way to calm her mind and had been since they first arrived in Norvos four years ago.

She had only vague recollections of the trip across the narrow sea with the brother she had thought dead, her mind and body had been wracked with fever after giving birth. She only knows that she had begged and pleaded for her boy, her Jon. Brandon told her he had been hidden on that ship for months after being smuggled out of King’s Landing when Lord Varys had used a simple sleeping draught on him, faking his death. His sole purpose was to wait for Varys’ servants to bring Lyanna to the ship and then to keep her safe on the journey to Essos.

When she had finally gained back her senses and her consciousness, she had wept for days, maybe weeks. She wept tears of happiness at her brother’s survival, which led to tears of sadness as she was reminded of their father’s death all over again. That of course thrust her into the devastation of Rhaegar’s death once again and then the utter horror and despair she felt over the deaths of Princess Elia and her children returned. And whenever all of those thoughts and feelings passed, she would switch between utter joy at her son’s birth and security in the North and the ache she felt deep in her bones for her beautiful little boy.

She thought of him almost constantly. She wondered when he learned to speak and walk and what lessons he was being taught by the Maester and whether he was close to his cousin, Ned’s boy whom she never learned the name of. When her thoughts weren’t consumed by her son, she thought of his father, her silver prince. She missed him almost as much.

Sometimes, when thoughts of what happened to her family, both Stark and Targaryen, clouded her mind, she would be filled with a rage so potent she felt she might explode. These were the times when she swore to herself, and Brandon if he were about, that she would avenge them all. Her father, Rhaegar, Elia, little Rhaenys and Aegon, Queen Rhaella. She would not stop until she found justice for them. She would certainly not stop until Robert Baratheon was cold in the ground.

She just needed to wait a little longer now. Many times over the years, the desire to return home would hit her so strong she would seriously consider going against the spider’s wishes and boarding a ship. Other times, Brandon would be possessed by the same desire. Neither of them had any patience, that was a trait that belonged to their brothers. But finally, Varys deemed it safe enough for them to return. It was only just last week that they received a message from Lord Varys instructing them to leave for Pentos in a moon’s turn. They were to await two companions coming from Volantis, neither she nor Brandon had any clue who the were, and then they would set out for the home of Illyrio Mopatis.

 

A fortnight later, Lyanna found herself in the solar of Otho, the Lord of keep that she and Brandon had called home these last four years. Otho and his wife Meela were the parents of Princess Mellario, wife of Prince Doran Martell. This connection was how Lord Varys knew that Lyanna and Brandon would be safe in Norvos. Of course no one, not even Mellario, knew they were here, and only Ned knew that Lyanna was alive.

Otho and Meela had always been very kind to them and Lyanna enjoyed the stories the two would tell about growing up in Norvos. The city had a similar climate to the North of Westeros, so listening to their tales reminded her of growing up in Winterfell with her brothers.

Today, though, Otho was helping her and Brandon go over final details of their departure. Their mysterious companions would arrive in a little over a week, rest a few days, then the group would leave together.

“Well, it would appear the preparations are finished. You have your things packed, or mostly packed, and your food and other necessities are being stored in the cart as we speak,” Otho noted, reading the documents in front of him.

“Aye. All we do now is wait for Varys’ friends and then set out for Pentos. The spider didn’t say how long we were needed there, but hopefully not long. My patience is, as always, wearing thin. I’d like nothing more than to return home to Winterfell and to see my brothers.” Brandon gazed out the window, as if trying to see their family’s ancestral seat from clear across the Narrow Sea. Lyanna understood the desire.

“Of course. Meela and I are happy for your return to your family, but we will certainly miss your presence here.” Lyanna felt her eyes water at Otho’s words. She too would miss being here in Norvos with Otho and Meela, but her longing to be with her son was too powerful to wallow in those feelings. “If ever you need to escape Westeros, you or your family, our home will be open.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Stark! Didn't I say I like happy endings? Really, I'm one of those people who pretend characters still exist on TV shows and in books when they are killed off *cough* Grey's Anatomy, Harry Potter *cough*  
> I know killing characters makes things more interesting but I also get rather attached to fictional people so it's not so much interesting for me as it is heartbreaking:/ But anyway, the next chapter will be another surprise! Thank you!!!


	7. Elia I

Princess Elia Martell Targaryen was a patient woman. Raising children teaches you a form of patience that others could only wish for. Despite this, however, listening to her ten year old daughter chatter endlessly about the history of Norvos was certainly a way to end her patience. Looking around at their twenty Volantene guards, Elia knew they agreed with her.

“Rhaenys, my love,” she spoke over her daughter’s description of the bearded priests, “I think we have learned enough of Norvos for the time-being.”

“But Mother, we will arrive by the end of the day! It is only right that we learn as much as possible about our destination, and it’s people, before we are guests there.” Rhaenys looked up at her from her horse next to Elia’s, eyes large and pleading.

Elia sighed. Truly, she could deny her daughter very little when she gave her that look. And she supposed it was a fair point. “Alright dear, you may continue.” She could almost hear the collective sigh of the guards.

They were mere hours from their destination when Elia began to shake with nerves. She wasn’t stupid, she knew Varys intended for them to meet up with some fellow companions in Norvos. Everything in her hoped that one of them would be her son. However, another part of her feared her little boy would be angry with her for ever letting him go.

Aegon would be six years old by now. She hated that she missed so many years with him, but was still grateful every day that he was even alive. She wasn’t sure, five years ago when Lord Varys smuggled him out of the Red Keep, that he would live. She didn’t know who he would be taken to or where he would be going. Every part of her screamed to go with him but she had to protect Rhaenys as well. Her son was still an infant when she and the spider swapped babes, not many knew what he looked like and even fewer could tell the difference between children at that age. Unfortunately, Rhaenys was well known around the capitol, and much too old to switch with another girl.

After the news of Rhaegar’s death, Elia and Varys put together plans to secret herself and Rhaenys out of the city and to Dorne, to her brothers. But then the Lannisters had finally chosen a side. The wrong side. The feeling of complete terror and helplessness had washed over the entire keep when the lion banners began moving through the capitol, screams interrupting the silent night. Varys had bustled into her rooms with Ser Jaime Lannister, of all people, and Elia attempted to run from them, thinking the spider had betrayed her. Surely Ser Jaime, Kingsguard or not, would follow his father’s orders rather than those of an ever-diminishing Royal Family.

Alas, the Master of Whispers and the young Kingsguard brought in a slight, dark skinned woman and her daughter and told them to dress in the Princess’ clothes. Lord Varys stayed to ensure their cooperation while Ser Jaime led her and her daughter through halls and hidden tunnels, out of the keep, and onto a ship. He seemed anxious, scared. When she asked him why he was helping her escape his own family, he responded with a pained grimace and a simple “I made a vow.”

Sometimes, when she thinks on that night, she’s filled with guilt over what happened to the unknown woman and children who posed as herself and her family. She hates that she allowed their deaths, especially in such a gruesome way, but there is nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure Rhaenys and Aegon’s survival. Compared to her children, everyone else mattered little.

Months after they arrived in Volantis, Elia received a message from Varys stating that not just Aegon, but Prince Viserys and the new Princess Daenerys survived as well. She still doesn’t understand why they couldn’t all be together. And she was never told the locations of any of them of course, so she couldn’t go to them of her own will. The next time she encountered the man, she would be demanding some explanations.

Elia refused to allow herself to think of the people that weren’t saved, her husband, Lyanna, Rhaella. She tries not to wonder if they would have lived if only she had been more prepared, planned things out more.

Regardless, she would follow Varys's instructions. Anyway, she was fairly certain she and Rhaenys were being led to another member of the Royal Family in Norvos, and maybe another when they reached Pentos. Gods, she hoped one of them would be her son.

 

Finally, after weeks of traveling, Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, and their Volantene guard arrived at a modest keep in central Norvos. They were greeted by a shocked Lord and Lady who Elia discovered were actually her good-sister’s parents. Once introductions were made and pleasantries were spoken, and both parties were over their surprise, Lord Otho directed servants to bring his guests’ belongings inside before turning back to Elia.

“Princess, you are most welcome here. Let us go inside, your traveling companions await you.” She took his arm, making sure Rhaenys was close behind her with Lady Meela as they made their way into the keep. “We were unsure of who would be arriving so thought it best that they remain out of sight. I suppose I shouldn’t be all that astonished at your and your daughter’s miraculous survival, given who they are, but alas it is still a great shock.” Before Elia could question him further, they entered a library where two of the very last people she had been expecting stood gaping in amazement.

Elia stood for a moment, eyes wide as she looked at an older Lyanna Stark. She had never truly gotten to know her husband’s second wife, though she had wanted to, before the war broke out. Despite what Westeros seemed to think, she had no real problem with the her husband loving another woman, she was Dornish after all. And though the scandal and the words said about Elia were bothersome and sometimes hurtful, she had whole-heartedly believed that everything would work out, that the three of them could live out a happy life together. It was this thought and memories of her few encounters with Lyanna that caused Elia to snap out of her shocked daze and rush to the other woman, just glad to finally be near another familiar face.


	8. Lyanna II

By the time Lyanna came to her senses, she had her arms full of a shaking, muttering Elia Martell. She hesitantly brought her arms around the Princess, her eyes searched for Brandon, hoping she wasn’t the only one seeing this. If it were any other moment, she would have laughed at the dumbfounded look on her brothers face, but instead she just clutched Elia to her and tried to hear what she was saying.

Gasps and sniffles interrupted a constant flow of “how?” and “gods!” before Lyanna finally pulled back slightly to look at the Dornish woman.

“Elia, come now, it’s alright,” she tried to soothe her. She wasn’t really sure what else to say. She had very few memories of Rhaegar’s first wife, each of them brief. Lyanna had been so intimidated by her, even before Rhaegar expressed any interest. Then, when she arrived on Dragonstone to wed him, Elia had been there, given her blessing, and bore witness to the wedding. Lyanna remembered thinking it was all so bizarre, but everyone around her seemed perfectly content. She had thought Elia was just biting her tongue, waiting until no one was around, to tell Lyanna what she really thought of the her and the situation. Evidently, judging by the greeting she just received, that wasn’t the case.

“I just…gods…you were all dead…it’s just been Rhaenys and I…” at her words, Lyanna’s head shot up, searching for the little girl. It was ridiculous, she knew how many years had passed, but she was still amazed at how much Princess Rhaenys had grown. “I’m sorry, this is just unexpected,” Elia murmured as she finally released Lyanna. She visibly pulled herself together before her dark eyes met the grey ones staring back at her. She shook her head before letting a happy smile spread across her features. Lyanna returned it with a grin of her own.

“I’m glad you’re both here. We weren’t sure who Varys was sending, you’re definitely not who we imagined though,” Lyanna led her over to the sofa to sit down, then hit her brother on the back of the head for his appalling manners. She looked towards Rhaenys, smiling gently. “Hello Rhaenys, I haven’t seen you since you were little.”

Rhaenys bit her bottom lip slightly, hands twisting in the material of her dress. Her eyes darted from her mother to Lyanna to Brandon and it was then Lyanna noticed that Otho and Meela had left the room.

“Rhaenys, sweetling, come here,” Elia patted the spot next to her on the sofa and her daughter hesitantly made her way over. “Do you remember Lyanna? We spent a few days with her after she and your father married, you called her Lya. And this is her elder brother, Lord Brandon,’ Elia gestured to him as he sat on the chair across from them.

“Brandon, please, not sure I’m even a lord anymore, to be honest.”

Elia raised a brow at him and Brandon squirmed in his seat a bit, eyes shifting all over. Lyanna briefly wondered if their thoughts drifted toward Catelyn Tully and Ashara Dayne as hers did.

“I still consider my daughter, Lyanna, and I princesses, so you shall be a lord,” Elia proclaimed and Brandon nodded quickly, eyes wide. Lyanna smirked at her brother before turning back to her fellow princesses.

“Well, seeing as we have a few days for you both to rest before we depart for Pentos, let us share our stories of survival, yes?”

 

“You have a son?”

“I…yes…I thought you knew,” Lyanna paused, trying to think back on the timeline of the war. She had discovered she was carrying Rhaegar’s child just before he left the Tower of Joy for King’s Landing and she had told him, of course. Perhaps he was worried about how Elia would take the news? “I named him Jon, it’s a Northern name. Rhaegar was almost positive it would be a girl, we had no male names chosen,” she trailed off, now worried herself. Elia wasn’t saying anything.

“I don’t understand this.” The Dornish woman stood up and went to the window, they could just barely hear Rhaenys’s giggles and Brandon’s loud barks of laughter coming from outside. Lyanna tensed, holding her breath. She and Elia had been getting along splendidly the last couple of days and she didn’t want to ruin that, but Jon was the most precious thing in the world to her.

Elia turned back to look at her, eyes full of tears and lip trembling. Lyanna gasped, debating trying to comfort her but unsure what the exact problem was.

“You and Brandon were here, alive. Rhaenys and I were safely in Volantis. Viserys and little Daenerys are alive and hidden somewhere. Aegon as well. And your son…your Jon, is also safe in the North. So many of us lived…why couldn’t we all have stayed together? Why did we have to be separated from our sons?!” Elia’s face was now streaked with tears as she shouted her last words, sobs wracking her slight frame. Lyanna pulled her into an embrace, still unsure of what to say. She had no words, because she agreed whole-heartedly. The two of them sunk into the sofa, letting their thoughts fade in and out, occasionally whispering empty platitudes to one another.

It truly wasn’t fair. On the one hand, they owed Varys so much for saving so many of them. But then why not let Jon and Aegon stay with her and Elia? She could understand not hiding everyone in the same place. That many people from Westeros, some of them obvious Targaryens, would be dangerously suspicious. But they could have at least been told of everyone’s survival. It would have given them each a little bit of comfort. Varys and all of his secrets would surely drive her mad.

Lyanna was just going over the millions of answers she would demand from the spider when a thought occurred to her. It was a supremely hopeful thought, and that made it terrifying.

“Elia?” She waited for the hum of acknowledgement from the woman next to her. “If…we were all rescued without hardly anyone knowing…what if others were as well?”

The two women stared at each other, both of their minds going towards their husband, the father of their children, and both were all the more eager to leave for Pentos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So...I'm not sure what to do about the Lyanna-Rhaegar-Elia marriage thing. Elia and Lyanna will be good friends at the very least, I want them to get along. And I also want Rhaegar to love both of them. So, I could just leave it like that and ignore the fact that if this were the case, they would most likely become jealous of each other, and Dorne probably still wouldn't be very pleased with the situation. Or I can have Elia and Lyanna fall in love as well. I usually don't like fics (from any fandom) with the triple relationship thing, the only ones I will read are Oberyn/Sansa/Ellaria and Elia/Lyanna/Rhaegar. So I'd be perfectly fine with either outcome and I'm fairly certain it will work for the story. What do you guys think???


	9. Brandon I

“Brandon?”

The former heir to Winterfell turned to the young girl riding the horse next to his with a raised brow. She was supposed to be riding in between his sister and Princess Elia and he in front with some of the Volantene guards. However, not an hour into their journey, she had ridden ahead to ask him questions about Westeros, the home she barely remembered. By midday, they were both trailing towards the back, Lyanna and Elia at the front looking like a pair of gossiping young maidens. “Yes, Princess?”

She rolled her eyes at his feigned formality, a small smile on her lips. “Do you think my father is alive?”

“I…I’m not sure, Rhaenys,” he sincerely hoped she wouldn’t question him further. He knew that Elia and Lya were hopeful but didn’t think it was a good idea for Rhaenys to be as well. He was already dreading Lya having to suffer the loss of her husband all over again if it turned out that he wasn’t alive.

“I’m not sure either,” she mumbled. Her lips pursed slightly in a scowl, staying quiet for a moment. “It will be alright though, if he’s not. I have Mother and Lya, and two younger brothers. It will be alright.”

Brandon wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself but the slight hopeful edge he detected made him silently beg the gods, old and new, to deliver them to a very much alive Rhaegar Targaryen.

“Did you ever meet my father?” Damn.

“Yes…once, at Harrenhall.”

“Did the two of you get along?” Damn.

“We only met briefly, Princess. I did not know him well enough…or at all really.” She stayed silent after that and Brandon was beyond grateful. She was heading toward subjects he didn’t went to think about or provide answers for. He was coming to adore the princess, truly, but how could he ever explain that at one point, he wished nothing more than to kill Rhaegar Targaryen with his bare hands? Or that his stupid, unrestrained impulsive decision led to his own father’s death and a war-ravaged realm?

He had long ago stopped blaming the prince for all of their fates. Once he was informed by Varys of Lyanna and Rhaegar’s marriage, he nearly drowned in his own guilt. If he hadn’t listened to that little rat, Baelish, or if he had just stopped for a moment and realized that no one would ever be able to kidnap his fierce little sister without a fight, then his father wouldn’t have died. Perhaps the lords of the great houses could have helped Rhaegar depose of the Mad King in a more peaceful way. 

_What’s done is done._ It was no use agonizing over it.

He considered himself both lucky and cowardly for not having any memories of his own execution or the war in general, seeing as he didn’t participate. He had wanted to, more than anything. When he woke up in a rundown shack in flea bottom, the Master of Whispers was sat beside him. The spider had explained that though his father was indeed killed, Brandon had been given a tonic that caused him to fall asleep before the King’s device could truly strangle him. He then told him that his little sister was safe and very much in love with her husband, the prince and that his little brother, quiet, solemn, Eddard, had called the banners and was marching to war. He raged at the man, demanding that he be taken to his brother. But of course, he was refused.

He had made a choice then, he could either cooperate with Varys and wait for his sister or he could go to his brother and fight beside him. He wanted to fight. He wanted out of that shack where he felt broken and useless. But then he would have to leave his sister. Or, unable to keep the secret, he would have tell Ned that she was alive and his trusting little brother would tell Robert. She could not marry that man. So, though it killed him, he chose to abandon his brothers and his home and become his sister’s protector instead. At least this way she wouldn’t be alone.

Brandon knows, deep in his bones, that he made the right decision. He was the eldest and raised to be a leader, but he was born to be a fighter, a protector. Ned, he was born to lead but raised to be a soldier. And this way, with Brandon in Essos as his sister’s guardian, Ned could be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. They didn’t get much news from the North but he knew that his brother was doing well in their father’s seat and that he had Benjen at his side. That was all he and Lyanna needed really, to know they were alright even though the two wild siblings had deserted them.

Besides, Ned was a much more suitable husband for Catelyn Tully than he ever could have been.

 

The closer their party got to Pentos, the more tension settled over the females of the group. Rhaenys shifted between bouts of nervous, inane chatter, and periods of absolute silence. Elia had her own bouts of silence, usually accompanied by trembling hands and a tense posture. Lyanna attempted to calm and comfort the other two but was rarely calm herself. She was jittery and often prone to riding ahead and racing some of their guards. Brandon, for one, could not wait until they reached their destination, the moods of the women around him were exhausting and making him anxious. He wished they would have brought a wheelhouse, then he would experience at least a little quiet, but it was determined to be too conspicuous. He would just have to hold out for a few more days.

 

The road leading to the home of Illyrio Mopatis was gated and heavily guarded. Brandon rolled his eyes at the ostentatious show of wealth when they came upon the palace. The courtyard where they stopped their horses was occupied by only a few stablehands and servants, as well as a large man with a greased beard, Magister Illyrio.

“Friends!” He walked towards them, arms outstretched while also signaling the servants to retrieve their things.

“Magister Illyrio, I presume?” Ever gracious, Princess Elia dismounted her horse with the help of one of the guards, she then went to greet their host as Brandon helped Lya and Rhaenys off of their own horses. All of them tried to discreetly look around but no one else was about. Brandon assumed they were staying inside as a precaution, just as he and Lyanna had done weeks ago.

The four of them trailed after the Magister into the palace once the appropriate introductions had been made, following him through marbled halls and gilded archways. They had just ascended to the second floor when quick, light footsteps were heard coming toward them. Within moments, a small girl with silver blonde hair, pale skin, and large violet eyes stopped in front of them, blinking curiously.

“Princess Daenerys,” Illyrio began, smiling down at the third child of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. “I believe you were supposed to remain in your room for time being, were you not?”

“I was! But then Viserys came in and he was being rude again so I left to find Mother.” Brandon stared at the girl in shock and felt Lyanna and Elia shift anxiously beside him. _Mother?_

Illyrio glanced back at them sheepishly before asking the little princess where her mother was now.

“In Viserys’s room, he and Rhaegar are arguing.”

Brandon spun to face his sister, face paling. Lyanna’s eyes were wide and glassy, her mouth slightly parted and she had one had clutching her throat and the other over her heart. Elia had frozen completely and Brandon was honestly concerned that she might faint. He was about to demand he be taken to Rhaegar, just to make certain, just to save the princesses from potential heartache, when Rhaenys knelt before the silver princess and spoke up.

“Hello Daenerys, my name is Rhaenys, I’m Rhaegar’s daughter. Can you take us to him?” Daenerys smiled brilliantly before grasping her niece’s hand and dragging her through the halls, not noticing as the others rushed after them.


	10. Arthur II

Lord Varys’s “gifts” would be arriving today. Of course, they now knew that by gifts, he meant people, so the King and Queen Dowager had been anxious all morning. They all assumed that these guests would be allies of some kind to help them take back the Iron Throne. The thought was making nearly everyone half-mad with nerves.

Arthur was currently in Rhaegar’s solar with the King and his mother, going over documents that detailed the current state of the Seven Kingdoms. Evidently Robert Baratheon was plunging the realm into debt and had a bad habit of borrowing from Tywin Lannister whenever the Iron Bank refused him. The Sword of the Morning found this quite amusing, knowing that when Aerys sent his heavily pregnant wife and Queen to Dragonstone during the rebellion, he also managed to nearly empty the crown’s vaults and send most of the Targaryen wealth with her. The Queen Dowager took a fraction with her to Pentos but most is still hidden on Dragonstone, untouchable to the Baratheons and Lannisters.

“What could he possibly be spending all of this money on?” Rhaella asked no one in particular as she read through letters. “The war has been over for years, it’s the height of summer, and we certainly didn’t leave any debts behind.”

“Feasts. And tournaments, Varys says Robert hosts at least two or three a year.” Rhaegar cared little for the Baratheon’s financial status. Any debts that the Usurper incurs will be repaid by Baratheons, not the Targaryens. “He clearly isn’t using it to help the small folk. They seem to be more destitute than ever before. Perhaps we could do something about that from here in Essos,” the King murmured. The Queen was about to respond when Princess Daenerys burst into the room in tears.

“Mother!” The Queen stood and lifted her daughter into her arms, petting her hair soothingly. Arthur heard her quiet whispers as they left the room and sighed. Undoubtedly, Viserys had done something to her.

Rhaegar sighed, seemingly on the same train of thought, and stood as well. “I should go and speak to my brother.” Arthur nodded and helped his friend put away the papers littering his desk. They then left the solar and made their way towards Viserys’s room, finding Rhaella already attempting to reprimand her son and Ser Oswell standing guard in the doorway.

“This behavior will stop Viserys, you are acting as if you’re some unruly child rather than an eleven year old boy!” Rhaella seemed to be at her wit’s end with her young son. Viserys was clearly ignoring her, instead staring out the window. “Viserys! Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes! But it’s not my fault!” The dark glint in the boy’s eyes worried Arthur more than he was willing to admit, and judging by Rhaegar’s posture, he shared his feelings. The King laid a gentle hand on his mother’s shoulder before walking over to his younger brother.

“What isn’t your fault Viserys?”

“It’s Dany! She won’t obey me, but she must! She is to be my Queen, she must obey the dragon!” Viserys gestured wildly with his hands, almost pleading with his brother to understand. Rhaegar sighed in resignation before a steely look came over his features. Arthur moved closer to the brothers, prepared to come in between them should the need arise. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Queen take a few steps backwards.

“Viserys, Dany will not be your wife. You will not be King. Your behavior has made sure of that. If you continue to torment our sister, you will not be returning to Westeros at all.” Rhaegar stood tall over his brother, glaring down at him. Viserys stared back at him, eyes wide in shock before his feature contorted into an expression of pure rage.

“You cannot do that! I am your heir!” Viserys flew at his brother, hitting him everywhere he could reach and Arthur made to pull him off but Rhaegar shook his head, half-heartedly blocking the swings of the outraged prince. His eyes were sad and Arthur knew that he hated hurting his little brother like this, but it was necessary. Viserys would be a terrible ruler. “Your children are dead! I’m your heir! I will be King!” With that, Viserys had gone too far. Rhaegar clenched his jaw tight and shoved the boy away from him. Arthur knew it was taking all of his willpower not to strike his brother.

“Ser Oswell,” he nearly growled, “take the Prince to his room. He is not to leave until I say so.” The older knight nodded, placing his hand on Viserys’s shoulder to escort him. When they all turned face the door, Arthur thought for certain he was dreaming. Or dead.

There, standing in the hall outside with varying expressions of of shock and concern on their faces, were Brandon Stark, and Elia, Rhaenys, and Lyanna Targaryen. Arthur barely heard Rhaella let out a gasping sob, over the sound of his own pounding heart. Princess Rhaenys was clinging to Daenerys’s hand, the littlest princess flicking her gaze between all of the adults in the room. Brandon sunk down into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands, mumbling to himself. Elia and Lyanna both had their teary gazes locked on their husband. Arthur whirled around, suddenly remembering that as heart-stopping as this situation was for him, it was tenfold for his King.

Rhaegar’s eyes were tear-filled as they darted between his wives and daughter, he seemed unsure where to look and unwilling to look away. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly. He opened his mouth but then shut it again quickly, swallowing before managing to croak out one word. “How?”

No one seemed to know how to respond until Magister Illyrio stepped forward, his hands stretched out in a placating gesture. “Varys saved them and faked their deaths, Your Grace. They were hidden in separate locations, unaware that anyone else from your family still lived.” Arthur felt his face heat in rage at this.

“So you knew?! You were aware that the King’s wives and daughter lived and you said nothing to him?!” Illyrio was shaking his head, assuring them that he only just found out days ago when Rhaegar took a hesitant step forward, eyes locked on his daughter this time. Rhaenys had tears streaming down her cheeks and she let out a choked sob before running into her father’s arms. Rhaegar locked her in an embrace as he lifted her up, murmuring her name over and over.

Turning away from the scene, Arthur saw Elia clutching at Lyanna’s arm, both of them seeming to be restraining them selves from following the Princess into Rhaegar’s arms.

“Ser Arthur,” Rhaella was standing in front of him, a hand on his arm. “Ser Oswell has taken Viserys to his room. Let us take Daenerys and Lord Brandon and give him a tour of the palace, yes?” She already had her daughter’s hand clasped in her own and was moving towards the hall, Magister Illyrio just in front of her. Arthur looked over at a very much alive Brandon Stark and felt a strong desire to break his nose.

“Let’s go Stark,” he said instead.


	11. Rhaegar II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is twice as long as usual, don't get too used to it though:) Also I'm starting to get into the whole planning of returning to Westeros and I'm not a strategist at all, so bare with me, please and thank you!

Rhaegar could barely think straight, or breathe. And he was fairly certain his heart had stopped. He was clutching his daughter to his chest so tightly that he worried he was hurting her, but her grip was just as strong. He refused to open his eyes, surely he must be dreaming and if he opened his eyes, they would disappear.

“I missed you, Father.” Rhaegar’s eyes flashed open as he tightened his hold even further. His eyes found the only other people in the room, the two most beautiful women he had ever seen. His heart stuttered in his chest.

“I missed you too, my sweet girl. I missed you all so much.” That was all it took for Elia and Lyanna to come running to him. He relinquished his grip on Rhaenys so that he could hold all three of them at once. He had no idea what else to do or what to say, he only knew he wanted to stay right there, with the three of them in his arms, for the rest of his life.

 

An hour later, the family was still wrapped up in each other but had moved to the sofa. Few words were spoken and Rhaenys had fallen asleep against Rhaegar’s shoulder. Elia and Lyanna were curled into his sides and he could think of a million things he wanted to say to them but was reluctant to break the peaceful silence. But the door creaking open broke it anyway.

“Rhaegar?”

He opened his eyes to see his mother enter the room, a radiant smile on her face as she gazed at them. He smiled softly at her, humming in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but Rhaenys’s room is ready, if you’d like me to put her to bed?” He knew his mother was trying to give him time with his wives and he was grateful, but he reluctant to be parted from his daughter. Rhaella easily read his hesitance. “It’s alright sweetling, she’ll be just down the hall, next to Daenerys. Ser Arthur will guard her room.” Finally, he nodded and stood.

“I’ll take her, she’s grown so much since the last time you lifted her,” he whispered sadly. His daughter was only 6 years old when he last saw her, he couldn’t believe how tall she had gotten. Cradling her in his arms, he followed his mother down the hall.

When he returned to his solar minutes later, it was to a surprising, but welcoming sight. Lyanna was leaning against Elia, head resting on the older woman’s shoulder, their hands intertwined. He knew when he married Lyanna that the two would get along just fine, but he never expected them to be this comfortable with each other. He was glad, of course. He wanted, needed, them to be friends.

“You’ve aged, husband,” Elia said with a smirk. Lyanna stifled a giggle, nodding in agreement. Rhaegar grinned brightly at them, it felt like the first real smile in years.

“Yes, well,” he began as he moved towards them, sitting in the chair opposite their sofa, “being in exile will do that to a man. Especially to one who has lost most of his family.” Their smiles all turned sad at that and he hated himself for ruining the moment. But they had to talk about it, they had to move on.

“We didn’t know either, that anyone else lived,” Lyanna assured him. “I thought it was just Brandon and I and…” Rhaegar frowned as she trailed off, her eyes darting to Elia.

“And I knew only that Daenerys and Viserys were alive, but not where or that you and your mother were with them. Rhaenys and I had been in Volantis before being sent to Lyanna and Brandon in Norvos a few weeks ago,” Elia finished quickly. Her and Lyanna exchanged looks before turning back to him again. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why do I feel as if you two are keeping something from me?” Rhaegar had a feeling that this would be his life from now on, his wives sharing secrets with each other but keeping them from him. He found it oddly endearing.

“Well…we are…it’s just, we wanted to get everything out in the open first,” Lyanna sat up, squaring her shoulders and again, glanced at Elia.

“Rhaegar, Aegon is alive. As is Jon, your son by Lyanna.”

For the second time that day, Rhaegar swore his heart stopped right along with his breathing. “I…what?”

“They’re both safe, Rhaegar. I’m not sure where Aegon is, or who he is with but Varys assures me often that he is safe. He was taken away from King’s Landing shortly after you left for battle.”

Rhaegar let out a laugh of disbelief. When he awoke this morning, he thought his wives and children were lost to him forever. His future consisted of reclaiming his family’s legacy and naming his sister as his heir. But now, both Lyanna and Elia were in front of him, his daughter was asleep down the hall and his sons, he had _sons_ , were alive. He took a deep breath, trying to collect his racing thoughts.

“Alright. Tell me everything.”

 

“Your Grace?”

“Come in, Arthur,” Rhaegar responded, not even looking up from the letter he was writing at his desk. Arthur entered the solar, looking around, most likely searching for Elia and Lyanna. “They retired hours ago.”

“Ah.” Rhaegar could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He finished the letter, sighing, before looking up at his closest friend.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just, you have not one, but two beautiful wives. And, instead of…reconnecting with them, you’re in here, working.”

Rhaegar shot a glare at the knight. “I had to pen a letter to Varys. I want to know why he separated all of us and I want to know where Aegon is.” Arthur’s eyes widened at this, reminding Rhaegar that he was unaware of his eldest son’s survival and his youngest son’s existence. “Elia sent Aegon away before my supposed death. And Lyanna, believing us all to be dead, sent Jon with her brother, Eddard, when she was nearly dying herself.”

“Jon?”

“My son.”

“Yes, of course,” Arthur retorted dryly, rolling his eyes. Clearly, he was done being shocked at such revelations after the day they had experienced.

“Damn that spider. How is it possible that I can hate him so much, but be so endlessly grateful to him at the same time?” Rhaegar had been going back and forth with these thoughts all evening and supposed they wouldn’t go away anytime soon. At the very least, not until after he had his sons safely in his arms.

“I do not know. I’m sure he has an explanation that he believes is suitable,” Arthur reasoned. Whether the rest of them would understand or accept his reasons was debatable. “At least this explains why Varys was so certain of support from Dorne and the North.”

Rhaegar grimaced slightly at that. “Yes, but how will they feel about my having two wives. How will any of Westeros feel? The faith will certainly protest. Not to mention, I’m sure half of the realm thought I was as mad as my father when I supposedly kidnapped Lyanna.” He looked up at his friend uncertainly, “The closer we come to returning to Westeros, the more concerns arise.”

“Then we will address them, one at a time. Where will we journey first?

“The North, Winterfell. I want my children with me. I’m assuming that Varys should be sending Aegon to us soon, shortly after that, we will depart,” Rhaegar shuffled through some of the papers on his desk, looking for a map of the North. “We will sail on a disguised ship, to White Harbor. Varys claims that Lord Stark knows Lyanna will return home soon. So, if she writes to him, he will most likely want to meet her as soon as the ship docks.”

“Will she not be telling him that she’s traveling with the entirety of the Royal Family?” Arthur asked, surprised.

“No. Too dangerous to put in a letter. She’s going to have to be vague about her own arrival, not saying exactly who she is.”

“Alright. So we go to Winterfell and…?”

“Convince Lord Stark to fight for us. Or at least not fight for Robert. He would be well within reason not to want to drag his men into war again so soon after the last one, but hopefully he is now suitably disillusioned towards Robert and will want to keep his sister and his nephew safe. Lyanna and Jon will be in danger as long as Robert sits on the Iron Throne. I’m certain the Lannisters have spies all over the realm, even in the North. They will know the moment we arrive and then Robert will be determined to kill me and my family.”

“So…we’re bringing war to the North,” Arthur realized.

“Yes, in a way. But fortunately, the only way to get into the North if they don’t want you there, is by sea. Which we are also working on.” At Arthur’s confused frown, Rhaegar smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “We have control of the Royal Fleet.”

Arthurs eyes widened dramatically, “How have you managed that? The fleet is docked at Dragonstone, which is ruled by Stannis Baratheon.”

“Yes, that’s what the Baratheons would like to think. However, most of the Lords on the island are still loyal to our family, we’ve been in contact with them since we left. Remember, they helped us hide and then escape to Essos at the end of the Rebellion.” Rhaegar stood and moved over to the larger map, spread out on the table in his solar. He picked up the pieces representing the Royal Fleet and moved them to the eastern side of the island. “My mother took control of the fleet while she was there. They swore fealty to her and vowed to be at our family’s service when we returned. Soon, they will be docking their ships on the other side of the island, justifying it by rebuilding the docks on the west side. This way, they can be “stolen” more easily. From there, we can bring them to the North.” The King then moved around the table, going to stand near the southern part of the map. “Now. Dorne will be difficult until we can speak with either Prince Doran or Prince Oberyn. Just knowing that Elia is alive won’t be quite enough.”

“They will still be angry over you taking a second wife, yes,” Arthur remarked as he walked over to join his King. Rhaegar noticed that the knight gazed at Starfall for a moment before turning to Sunspear, deep in thought. “Oberyn will be the problem, he’s rash and quick to anger.” Rhaegar nodded, well-acquainted with his good-brother’s ire after Harrenhall. “We need him here.” When the King just raised his eyebrows, Arthur continued thoughtfully. “If we could get him here to Pentos, he would see that his sister is perfectly content sharing her Queen status with Lyanna. If he still takes issue with the situation, then Elia will easily put him in his place. He could then get a message to Prince Doran from here, much easier than we could from the North. Dorne has many allies in Essos.”

Rhaegar stared at the map a bit longer before he remembered something, hurrying to his desk and scanning through some of the spider’s past letters. Arthur watched him, frowning in confusion.

“Rhaegar?”

“Varys mentioned something around a year ago…ah yes, here it is. Oberyn is in Essos, Doran exiled him for a time, to keep him from seeking revenge on the Lannisters. Now we just have to lure him to Pentos.”

“Illyrio. He could get a message to him, discreetly mentioning that Viserys and Daenerys are here,” Arthur replied, excitedly. The two men easily getting caught up in all forms of strategy.

“Yes. Varys had said that the Martell’s were considering seeking a betrothal between their house and the remaining Targaryens. This will work. I’ll speak to Illyrio in the morning. And Elia and Lyanna, of course.”

“The Queens?” Arthur asked the question with knowing smile, it was the first time the two had been referred to as the Queens of the Seven Kingdoms. Rhaegar nodded, finally content with the way his life was going.

“The Queens.”

 


	12. Elia II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, this chapter has a tiny bit of slash in it for like two seconds, just a warning. You could skip right over it but there will be more from here on out so it might be difficult to just ignore it.

The morning after being reunited with her husband, Elia awoke, disoriented, in a strange room, barely remembering falling asleep the night before. She, Rhaegar, and Lyanna had spent hours talking. Telling of each of their escapes to Essos, as much as Rhaegar and Lyanna could remember, and how they had been spending the last four years. There were tears of sadness and frustration and happiness, and many vows of vengeance. They spent a bit of time speaking of plans for returning to Westeros but, after weeks of traveling, Lyanna and Elia were both exhausted. She had vague memories of being escorted to their rooms by handmaidens, fairly certain she was half-asleep the entire time.

Sighing in content, having had the best night’s sleep she’d had in years, Elia rose from the bed to bathe and ready herself for the day. She dressed in a simple gown of orange and yellow, leaving her hair down with a few small braids around her head. She figured that, until they reached Westeros, she would maintain a more relaxed state of dress. She may be a Queen, but very few people were aware of that just yet.

Leaving her room, she came across her daughter, Daenerys at her side.

“Hello, Mother!”

“Hello, sweetling. What are you two lovely princesses up to this early?” Elia smiled down at Daenerys, the little girl giving a shy smile in return. She looked very much like her mother, a truly beautiful child. And, judging by the hero-worship in her eyes, she already adored her older niece.

“Dany is showing me to the gardens where we shall have lessons with the Maester,” Rhaenys retorted happily. She had always loved learning, she was like her father in that.

“Alright. Well, be sure to be on your best behavior,” Elia instructed as she left the girls, hearing a promise of “We will!” echo down the hall. She came to a stop in front of the door that she was fairly certain led to Lyanna’s rooms. She bit her bottom lip slightly in hesitation before knocking, “Lyanna?”

After hearing a muffled “enter,” Elia opened the door, walking into the room. She promptly turned and closed the door when she realized that Lyanna was having a bath. “I apologize, I can come back later.” She was about to leave again when Lyanna spoke.

“Nonsense. We share a husband, Elia, the least we can do is be comfortable with each other,” she smiled brightly at her, winking.

Elia felt her face heat slightly and internally berated herself, sitting on the edge of the bed. She _was_ comfortable with Lyanna. Over the last month, the Northern woman had become just as a dear a friend as Ashara had been to her. Except, Lyanna was _not_ Ashara. True, both woman were beautiful and had an air of independence about them that few others did. However, Elia never blushed due to Ashara’s nudity. She never found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss Ashara. And she certainly never experienced hazy, pleasure-filled dreams about Ashara.

She knew what was happening of course. She was a grown woman, with a husband and children. She knew what it was like to lust for someone. True, she had never desired a woman as she had men, but that was of little concern to her. Had she been born anywhere but Dorne, she might be horrified by her thoughts. Not just because Lyanna was a woman, but because she was someone other than her husband. However, she was a Dornish woman, married to a man who happened to also be married to the woman she was lusting after. She never thought this would be the outcome when Rhaegar married Lyanna, but she certainly didn’t have a problem with it. Surely Rhaegar would be just as accepting of the situation. And Lyanna…well Elia would just have to wait and see.

“Elia? Are you alright?” Lyanna’s words brought her out of the thoughtful stupor she’d been in. She blinked, shaking her head slightly before refocusing her gaze on the other woman. “You look fevered.”

Elia laughed at that, willing herself to keep her eyes locked with Lyanna’s. The younger Queen had straightened up slightly in the bath, her arms coming to rest on the sides and her pale, elegant neck reclined back. Losing the battle with herself, Elia’s dark eyes moved down, trailing ever Lyanna’s lovely neck and shoulders before glimpsing the tops of her full breasts, just above the water. Swallowing heavily, Elia managed to tear her eyes away before answering her question.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Great, even.” Lyanna raised a skeptical brow. “I was just wondering if you would like to tour the palace with me today. We shan’t be here for too much longer, I don’t think, but it would be nice not to get lost.”

“I’d love to! I’m done here, anyway,” with that, Lyanna stood up in the tub, water falling from her body, droplets clinging to and trailing down the curves of her breasts and hips. Elia felt her own body heat up at the sight. “Will you bring me that towel over there?” Chewing on her bottom lip, Elia nodded absently, grabbing the towel from where it was laying across the bed.

Towel in hand, Elia moved towards the basin. She held out the cloth and helped Lyanna wrap it around herself, barely resisting the urge to touch her more than was necessary. When the towel was secured, she looked up and inhaled sharply. Lyanna’s silver-grey eyes had turned to dark steel and were locked on her own.

A knock and the opening of the door pulled the two women out of their staring. Elia took a few quick steps backwards as Rhaegar walked in the room then froze at the sight that greeted him. Lyanna stepped out of the basin, holding back a smiled as she moved towards the wardrobe. Elia focused on her husband, trying not to smile at his expression. The King was still standing in the center of the room, eyes darting from Lyanna to Elia to the bath, lips slightly parted and eyes growing dark.

“Did you need something, husband?” Lyanna called from the other side of the room, an amused edge to her voice.

“I…yes. I had a couple of matters to discuss with my Queens about our plans, if neither of you are busy,” Rhaegar finished, shaking his head as if clearing his thoughts away. Elia took pity on him.

“Of course. We were just planning to tour the palace, but I believe we can wait, Lya, can we not?” She and Rhaegar both turned to Lyanna for the answer. She was facing slightly away from them, digging through the clothing and pulling out different items.

“Certainly! Let me just dress quickly and we shall head to your solar, Rhaegar.” With that, she dropped her towel before pulling on her smallclothes and a shift, then securing a simple, light blue gown with a belt of silver metalwork. Elia took a deep breath to calm herself, anticipating doing this often in the future if Lyanna insisted on teasing her so. Facing her husband, she noticed Rhaegar’s lips were pursed into a slight, grudging smirk as he shook his head in exasperation. Lyanna made her way to the door, before turning back to them with raised brows and a smirk. “Well come along, my loves, let us plan our victorious return home.”

Rhaegar told Elia and Lyanna of everything he and Arthur had discussed the night before, listening to their opinions and their advice on the matters as well. It was one of the reasons Elia fell in love with her husband, his willingness to listen to her counsel and not treat her like she was beneath him just because of her gender. The three of them worked together on a letter to Lord Stark, keeping it as vague as possible but still making it clear to him that it was from Lyanna. They then spoke with Illyrio about inviting Oberyn here and the Magister promised to have a message sent to the Prince by the end of the day.

The King and his Queens were just discussing whether or not to split the Royal Fleet, sending half North and half to Dorne, when the Magister returned to deliver a letter from Lord Varys. Elia watched as Rhaegar quickly read through the short missive, a relieved smile lighting his features.

“Aegon will be here within a fortnight.”

Later, when Lyanna, Brandon, and Rhaella took Rhaenys and Daenerys on a walk around the grounds, Elia remained in the solar with her husband. It seemed that now they were so close to departing for Westeros, Rhaegar was becoming anxious, obsessively going over every minute detail for their journey. She hadn’t wanted to leave him here to obsess even further so she turned down the offer from the others, keeping him company instead.

“You should relax, husband. Else you’re going to drive yourself mad.” He shot a mocking glare at her but relented, setting aside the letter he was writing to one of the fleet’s captains. “There now, let us talk about something else.”

“Alright, your brother.”

Elia sighed. That wasn’t what she was looking for as a subject change. “What about him, Rhaegar?”

“I’m worried. He’ll be much calmed by your survival, yes, but he will loathe the idea of Lyanna. No doubt, he’ll refuse to cooperate with us unless I send her back to live at Winterfell with our son.”

“That will never happen,” Elia stated firmly. At her husbands confused frown, she continued, “I will speak to Oberyn. I will tell him the truth and he will mind his own business.”

“The truth…What is the truth, Elia?” He was smiling at her slightly now, causing her to roll her eyes.

“I consented to and witnessed your marriage to Lyanna of my own free will. And…if he still tries to get her sent away, then I will just have to inform him that I want her here…I would love nothing more than for her to be mine, just as she is yours.” Elia avoided making eye contact with her husband, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles from her gown. “And besides, my little brother has no right to interfere in my marriage.”

Rhaegar let out a delighted laugh, causing her to look up questioningly. “I knew you would get along with Lyanna, but I never dreamed that you would want her as I do. It makes our lives much easier, I believe, and quite interesting.” Elia laughed in response, rising from her own chair sit across her husband’s lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Yes, well, our lives were beginning to look dull, we need interesting.”

 


	13. Oberyn I

Unlike his elder brother, Prince Oberyn Martell did not like to wait. He didn’t care for the cautious way of life and he rarely thought things through. He preferred to act fast. Taking time to consider possible outcomes only wasted time and made one worry needlessly. So, when he received the vague message from Magister Illyrio Mopatis inviting him to come to Pentos, he accepted. Without writing to his brother, Prince Doran.

The man was giving him an excuse to meet Prince Viserys Targaryen and his sister, Princess Daenerys, how could he turn that down. Oberyn knew that Doran wanted to betroth his own children to the remaining Targaryens and help put Viserys on the Iron Throne, making his daughter, Arianne, the Queen. So, truly, Oberyn was just helping this process along. Doran would understand. Or not, no matter.

But, to prevent too big of an argument, Oberyn sent a raven to his brother when he was still three days ride from Illyrio’s home. He at least made an effort this way. 

Now, Oberyn and his fellow Dornishmen were making their way up the road to he Magister’s estate. His men were laughing and jesting, as they usually did, but Oberyn was musing on what another Targaryen alliance might mean.

At first he wasn’t fond of the idea of his niece and nephew marrying more dragons. It still made his blood boil to think of how marrying Rhaegar Targaryen had ruined his sister and got her and her children killed. But, even more than he hated the idea of Targaryens, he despised the Lannisters, with every fiber of his being. And, in order to get revenge for Elia and her children, the Lannisters must pay. To achieve this, he was more than happy to ally with the next generation of Targaryens.

Oberyn longed for the day that Dorne finally got justice for its murdered Princess, and he wasn’t the only one. The Dornish were a passionate people, and protective of their own. Sometimes, in the midst of the deserts of his homeland, you could almost feel the tension of the country waiting to strike. He relished in it, encouraged it. Which was why Doran sent him to Essos in the first place. Although, truthfully, it wasn’t much of a punishment. Traveling Essos offered all sorts of opportunities and knowledge and Oberyn very much enjoyed the freedom. But still, he was anxious to get home and planned to leave for Sunspear after visiting Pentos.

 

He had just entered the palace beside Illyrio Mopatis, making polite, boring conversation. He dutifully followed the man to a set of double doors, though he was a little confused to be meeting the Targaryen children before he washed off the grime of travel. Knocking on the door, the Magister gestured for Oberyn to enter before turning back down the hall. Further confused, Oberyn pushed open the door to see a woman who could only be his older sister sitting on a sofa near the window.

“Hello, little brother. It’s been too long, truly,” Elia stood, cautiously walking over to him. He could only imagine what his face must look like. His first thought was that he was the victim of some cruel trick. But he was aware of no such trickery that could create this situation.

“Elia?” She stepped closer still, eyes roaming his face. She smiled tentatively and Oberyn pulled her into his arms before he even realized it. “How is this real? You and the children…you were murdered!”

“We weren’t. They were decoys. Aegon, Rhaenys and I have been perfectly safe these last few years.” Oberyn pulled back slightly to look at her, trying to memorize everything he had forgotten about his sister. “I’m sorry I never told you, it just wasn’t safe. Or so I’m told by Varys.”

“Varys? The eunuch?” Elia pushed him away, slapping at his shoulder lightly.

“Oberyn really. Must you be rude? He saved my family’s lives,” she directed him towards the sofa, ignoring his laughter. “But yes, him. Apparently he’s quite adept at faking deaths and hiding away the Royal Family.” Oberyn tensed at those words.

“How many Targaryen deaths did the spider fake then?” Elia stared at him and he knew her answer. “Where is he?! I will kill the man myself,” nearly flying off the sofa, Oberyn paced about the room. He would make sure that Rhaegar Targaryen’s death could not be faked again. Elia followed him, attempting to calm him down but at this point he was nearly past reason. “No Elia. Just because you survived doesn’t take away his blame. You wouldn’t have had to go through any of it if it weren’t for that man! He started the whole war! He and the Stark whor-“

“Don’t _ever_ speak that way about Lyanna.” Elia stood glaring fiercely at him as he brought a hand up to his face, hardly believing that she just hit him.

“Elia…”

“No. You don’t think Oberyn. You never consider that there is more to a situation than what you see or hear. You’re too quick to anger and if you don’t learn to deal with it, one day your rage will get you killed.” His sister scowled, shaking her head as she moved back to the sofa. He followed after her like always.

“But Elia, he shamed you in front of everyone! Then abandoned you to run away with her! We thought you died!” He would have continued but she was still shaking her head at him, looking disappointed. If there was one thing he couldn’t stomach, it was disappointing his siblings.

“I knew. I knew he planned to crown her the Queen of Love and Beauty. I knew he was going to follow her to Riverrun and return with her. He told me, asked me even, and I consented. I was there when he married her.” She grasped his hands tightly in her own, willing him to truly listen to her. “We had a plan Oberyn. The children, Queen Rhaella and I were to follow Rhaegar and Lyanna to Dorne, but then the war started and Aerys refused to let us leave. Even if we had died, it wouldn’t have been Rhaegar’s fault.”

“But the Stark girl-“

“I want her as part of my marriage just as much as our husband does. She’s important to me, Oberyn. And if you care for me at all, you will accept her in our lives.” Elia left the room after that, leaving Oberyn to rethink everything he thought he had known.

 

Leaning on the balcony, Oberyn watched his niece and Princess Daenerys play in the gardens. Rhaenys looked so similar to her mother, it was shocking. He hadn’t been reintroduced to her yet so he contented himself with this for now. He vaguely noticed someone step out onto the balcony beside him but paid them little attention.

“Prince Oberyn.” He inhaled deeply before looking at the man beside him.

Like Elia, Rhaegar had aged a bit in the nearly 5 years since Oberyn last saw him. At just twenty-eight, the Prince, now King, was still almost unnaturally handsome, age having only enhanced his appeal. Oberyn rolled his eyes, knowing that once back in Westeros, all the young maidens would again be falling at the feet of this man.

“Your Grace,” he greeted, almost mocking. He trusted his sister, and her judgement, so he knew he no longer had reason to blame the man. But that didn’t mean he had to like him.

“Still not very fond of me, I see. Although, you never have been, even when Elia and I were first married. But I suppose that is understandable. I’m the one who took her away from Dorne, away from her family.” Oberyn felt no need to respond to this. Rhaegar didn’t need him to confirm it. “I do love her, truly. I thought her dead too, you know? It nearly killed me. But I promise, no harm will ever come to her or our children, ever again.”

Oberyn straightened, looking at his good-brother, “I suppose I’ll have to trust you, then.” The two of them lapsed into silence for a while before Rhaegar spoke again.

“Would you like meet your niece, again?” Instead of answering, the Dornish Prince grinned and led the way back inside.


	14. Brandon II

The sounds of clanging steel filled the air around them as Brandon and Arthur sparred. The swinging and clashing was becoming more and more intense the longer they went. Brandon was fairly certain the Kingsguard was holding back, surprisingly. He was better than most with a blade but no one could beat the Sword of the Morning. Eventually, Arthur seemed to tire of the fight and, seemingly in the blink of an eye, Brandon was flat on his back, disarmed. Arthur pointed his sword at his neck and raised his eyebrows.

“I yield,” Brandon laughed as Arthur moved to let him stand. Truly, the Northman considered himself lucky. He knew Arthur Dayne had no love for him and could have easily wounded, or killed, him and called it an accident. The two men walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, drinking deeply from skins of water and trying to catch their breath.

Brandon typically was very sure of himself. He’s always had something to say and wasn’t afraid to say it. But there was something about the Dornishman that put him on edge. He had no idea what to say to the man and had a feeling that Arthur knew of his discomfort. The two had never spoken before the war so he knew that the cause of the tension between them had to be Ashara. He tried not to think of her often, both due to guilt and sadness, but being around her brother lately had brought back all sorts of memories.

“I would have married her,” he said without thinking. He immediately regretted saying anything, figuring Arthur either wouldn’t believe him or would just attack him.

“You were betrothed to Catelyn Tully.”

Sighing, Brandon felt a wave of guilt. He never wanted to marry Catelyn, just as Lyanna never wanted to marry Robert, but their father wanted southern alliances. He knew he wouldn’t have made her happy, they were much too different, and not in a complimentary way. Her love of propriety and structure would have driven him mad, and he was too wild and willful and loud for her to have ever truly loved him.

But Ashara, he would have been happy with her. He was captivated by her the moment they met, and not just because of her famed beauty. She could be just as willful and loud as he was, but she could also be calm and collected when the need arose. He never stood a chance of resisting her.

“I would have broken it. Hoster Tully wanted his daughter to be Lady of Winterfell so all that needed to be done is for Ned to take my place has heir and as her betrothed.”

Arthur frowned for a moment before sighing. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” he said, closing his eyes. Then, apparently needing a change of subject, “What will you do? Once back in Westeros, I mean.”

“Stay by my sister’s side. I made that choice years ago and I plan to stick with it.”

“She’s the Queen, she’ll be trailed by Kingsguard for the rest of her life. Doubtful she’ll need more protection.”

“Aye. But I don’t trust just anyone with my sister.”

Arthur hummed in acknowledgment. “I understand the feeling.”

 

Brandon was once again sitting in the King’s solar. There had scarcely been a day in the last few weeks that wasn’t spent organizing letters, compiling information, writing even more letters, and generally planning for the coming months. He was currently reading through everything they had learned about the North in recent years as Ser Arthur and Prince Oberyn did the same for Dorne in the chairs opposite him. Rhaegar was at his desk and Queen Rhaella was seated next to him, both were writing and rewriting letters to the Tyrells and the major lords of the Crownlands, which would not be sent until after they had docked in White Harbor. Lyanna and Elia, however, were lounging on the sofa, Elia laying with her head in his sisters lap. The Queens were strangely content in their closeness and Brandon decided not to think on it too much.

“Brandon, do you think Ned wall call his banners and help us win the throne?” Lyanna’s question caused the rest of the room to stop what they were doing. Everyone was wondering that after all. He honestly wasn’t sure though.

“I think there is a good chance he will, for you and for Jon,” he began and then paused, not sure if he should continue. When he noticed everyone looking at him expectantly, he rolled his eyes and continued anyway. “But Robert was his best friend. We know that they had a falling out at the end of the rebellion because of the Lannister’s actions, but we know nothing of their friendship currently. And Ned was always the dutiful, honorable one. I’m sure he hated the idea of rebelling in the last war, I don’t know if he will allow himself to do it again.”

“But certainly he wouldn’t side with Baratheon? Not when his sister and nephew are Targaryens?” Oberyn seemed outraged at the very idea of fighting on the opposite side of his family and Brandon couldn’t blame him.

“No, he wouldn’t do that. The worst case is that Ned doesn’t call his banners and instead stays neutral, but I have hope for the best.” It was silent for a moment after Brandon’s words, everyone processing that.

“What of the rest of the North?” Rhaegar asked. “How will they feel about putting Targaryens back on the Iron Throne? Or really, how will they feel about supporting the man who they all believed kidnapped the daughter and sister of their liege lords?”

Lyanna spoke up this time, wanting to reassure her husband. “Once they all see me, alive and well and happily married, the kidnapping assumption will be done with.”

“And honestly, I doubt they will have much problem with bringing back the Targaryens, as you are not your father. And having a daughter of House Stark as one of your Queens will endear them to you, a bit.” Brandon dearly hoped that this was the case, anyway.

“What if we offered them something that they won’t get under Robert’s rule?” Elia asked. Her brother shook his head before answering.

“Like what? It’s my understanding that he has very little effect or influence on the North, is he really depriving them of anything?” The room considered this for a few minutes before the Queen Dowager spoke.

“That’s exactly it. At the moment, the crown has no interest in the North. Robert isn’t directly hurting them in any way, but nor is he helping them. But we could set up a trade contract with the Northern lords. The North has bountiful resources that the rest of the realm could certainly put to use. And, though Northerners are adept at surviving winters, the South could be of more help.” The others seemed intrigued but Brandon was nodding in agreement before she finished.

“That could work, actually. Northerners have never really traded with anyone but each other, so this would definitely be beneficial.”

“Now that I think on it, the kingdoms rarely trade with each other,” Rhaegar added before pulling out blank paper, presumably to draft trade routes and ideas.

“That is true. We could bring up the idea of better trade with each of the kingdoms, it could definitely bring more support,” Rhaella noted as she too began writing.

Everyone else looked around at each other, all of them realizing that this was just the beginning of Rhaegar’s rule and already he was doing things that would unite the Seven Kingdoms even further.

 

It was two days later when a small party arrived at the palace. Brandon stood next to Prince Oberyn in the courtyard as the Royal Family greeted Crown Prince Aegon, the heir to the Iron Throne. So focused was he on the happy reunion occurring between the Prince and his parents, that it took an elbow in the ribs from Oberyn for him to notice someone else had arrived with him. However, when he spotted the woman who was being held tightly in Ser Arthur’s arms, he couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to notice Ashara Dayne.


	15. Eddard II

It had been over a month since Ned had received the letter from Lyanna. Without ever truly confirming it was her, his sister let him know that she would soon be leaving for Westeros and docking in the North. Tomorrow he would be departing Winterfell to make it to White Harbor in time to meet her roughly two weeks from now. Ned didn’t think he had ever been so anxious in his life. It didn’t help that he had yet to tell anyone the truth about Lyanna and Jon. Instead, he informed his wife and brother that he would be going to New Castle to visit the Manderlys.

He had at first been worried that Catelyn would want to join him, and she had, but she decided not to leave their newest child, Arya, as she was only a couple of months old. He debated asking Benjen to come as well, but then chose not to. Though he wouldn’t be gone long, he felt better leaving Winterfell in Benjen’s hands rather than Catelyn’s or Maester Luwin’s, however capable they both were. Then, it had occurred to him for only a moment to bring Jon, before he rationalized that it was much too dangerous for the little boy to be outside of Winterfell just yet.

In the end, he chose a handful of his most loyal guards, including his master-at-arms, Ser Rodrik. They would leave before daybreak so Ned was running out of time to tell Ben and Cat the truth. He knew they would be angry at his years-long silence but he had no choice, he couldn’t very well just return home with his supposedly dead sister in a month.

Sighing in resignation, Ned left the godswood and headed towards the keep. He stopped in the training yard, and then again in the nursery to collect his brother and his wife before leading them to his solar.

“Do you have everything for your journey, my love?” Catelyn asked once they were all seated. Ned nodded absently and then took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m not going just to see Lord Wyman. I am going to White Harbor though, to meet someone and bring them back to Winterfell.” He stopped for a moment, glancing quickly at Benjen and then Catelyn, both of whom had confused frowns on their faces.

“Who, Ned?” Locking eyes with his brother, Ned prayed to the gods that he wouldn’t be too angry with him for what he was about to tell them.

“Our sister. Lyanna is alive, Ben.” His little brother paled, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. Catelyn’s mouth opened and closed, unable to say anything. Not wanting to wait for either of them to gather their thoughts, Ned told them what truly happened to Lyanna. He told them she went with Rhaegar willingly, even married him. Then he explained how he found her at the Tower of Joy, dying from childbirth and how Lord Varys managed to spirit her away and save her life, occasionally sending him messages to assure him of her safety. When he finished, the three of them sat in silence, Ned guilty and nervous. Finally Catelyn spoke.

“But…childbirth…did the babe live?” Ned took another deep breath, preparing to tell her that the little boy who she had treated with nothing but contempt was not his bastard son but instead a Targaryen prince.

“Jon.”

Catelyn spun to face Benjen, eyes wide and face slowly showing realization. “ _What?_ ”

“It’s Jon. I’ve suspected he was Lyanna’s child since the day you brought him here, Ned. I know you. You would never father a bastard. I even considered that he could be Brandon’s, but I didn’t think you would claim him as your own if that were the case. He wouldn’t have been in danger if he were Brandon’s.” Ned nodded, confirming it and he heard Catelyn gasp but paid her little attention, waiting for a reaction from his brother. “I should be angry with you, part of me is. But I understand you kept this all a secret to keep them safe. I think I would have done the same.” Benjen stood from his seat and moved to hug his brother. When they pulled apart, he asked Ned if he wanted Ben to tell Jon the truth, before Lyanna arrived.

Ned considered it for a moment before allowing it, not wanting Jon to be caught off guard when he met his mother for the first time. With that, Benjen left the solar, shooting a nervous glance at Catelyn on the way.

She seemed frozen in her chair. Her lips were pursed in a scowl and her eyes were staring down at her trembling hands. “All this time, you let me be shamed by the presence of your bastard. You let me believe that you still loved another woman so much that you allowed her son to grow up with your trueborn children.”

“Catelyn…I barely knew you in the beginning of our marriage. I wasn’t sure I could trust you with such a secret and-“

“What about after that? Do you still find me so untrustworthy?”

“Of course not! But it was dangerous Cat! If the secret was found out, Robert would surely have Jon killed for who his father is, and me as well for keeping such a thing from him. And once Robert gets angry, it builds until he destroys nearly everything around him. In his rage, he could have hurt you too if he found out you knew. And the children! The gods know what he would have done to them, he’s already shown he has no issues with the murdering of innocent babes!” Ned was now pacing his solar, worked up as he was, and when he finally turned to face his wife, he wished he hadn’t spoken at all.

“So, knowing the danger you were putting your wife and children in, you still chose to keep the boy here?”

Shocked, Ned gaped for a moment before replying, “He’s my sister’s son, my blood. How could I not?” He couldn’t believe she didn’t understand. She had siblings of her own, he was certain that if it were her sister in Lyanna’s situation, she would have gladly taken in her nephew and kept him safe and hidden. He waited minutes for her to say something but she just shook her head before leaving him alone in the solar.

The next morning, only Benjen was in the courtyard to see them off, it being too early for the children and Catelyn was still too angry.

“I’m going to tell him today,” his little brother murmured. Ned nodded at him, smiling slightly in gratitude.

“Good. Don’t let anyone else find out just yet. And keep him away from Catelyn until she calms down.” Ned turned and mounted his horse before looking down at Benjen “See you in a month, little brother.”

The two-week ride to White Harbor went quickly, and yet still too slowly for Ned’s liking. He longed to see his sister and could barely believe that any time now, she would be with him. He had taken to pacing the courtyard of New Castle and he was sure he was being a nuisance to the servants bustling around him.

He was surprised, when he was greeted by Lord Wyman the previous day, to learn that Varys had sent the Lord of White Harbor a raven weeks ago informing him that he should prepare for guests of a royal station. Ned then explained to Wyman Lyanna’s tale, leaving out the fact that Jon was her son, but neither could understand why so many royal rooms had to be prepared. Princess or not, Lyanna was just one person. He was again wondering who Lya could be traveling with when Wyman exited the keep.

“My scouts report that a ship without banners just docked,” he informed Ned as he came to stand next to the older man. “I still cannot believe Lyanna Stark is alive and well. Living in Essos, of all places! She truly wanted no part of a marriage to Robert Baratheon, eh?” Ned forced a small smile, shaking his head and focused on the gates.

It was not an hour later that around fifty riders entered the courtyard, some pulling a small wheelhouse. Everyone in the party had hoods and furs covering their faces so it was difficult for Ned to spot his sister, until she jumped off her horse and came flying towards him, hood slipping off.

“Ned!” She jumped into his arms and he lifted her off the ground, feeling that if he never let go of her, it would still be too soon. “Oh Ned, it’s so good to see you.” She pulled away from him then, tears in her eyes, but still clung to his arms. He scarcely knew what to say to her. She turned to the man next to him and smiled sheepishly. “Lord Wyman, I do apologize for my lack of manners, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen my brother.”

Wyman laughed loudly, bringing her hand to his lips briefly before replying, “Think nothing of it, my lady, if I remember correctly, you were never fond of propriety anyway.” Lyanna laughed along with him before turning back to Ned briefly. Her eyes darted between the two men and then over her shoulder at the people behind her.

“My Lord, brother, I must introduce you to my traveling companions but I don’t wish to do so in the open. If it’s alright, might we go inside?” Ned frowned down at her and was about to speak when Wyman responded instead.

“Of course, my dear, follow me,” he turned to go inside, before stopping to ensure Lyanna’s belongings and those of her companions were brought inside. Ned followed after him, Lyanna’s arm wrapped around his. He heard many footsteps behind him and thought he should be concerned about all of the secrecy but he trusted his sister.

“How are you, Lya?” He asked her quietly. She beamed up at him and he nearly wept tears of joy at seeing her so happy.

“I’m wonderful Ned, happy to be home.” Ned smiled back at her but said no more as they were nearing the empty dining hall of New Castle.

“Here we are, and I’ve sent word to the kitchens as well, you and your friends must be hungry after your journey.” Wyman sat himself at the head of the table, Ned to his right, but Lyanna remained standing alongside her companions. There were nearly a dozen and Ned notice for the first time that a few of them appeared to be children. He looked to his sister in confusion and, with a barely-repressed smirk, she nodded at the group.

As they all began removing furs and hoods and cloaks, Ned heard Wyman gasp repeatedly beside him, turning to him in shock every few moments. But Ned wasn’t any more informed than he was, he too sat gaping as the entirety of the Royal Family stood before him. His eyes roamed over Rhaegar and his mother and children and Princess Elia before they stopped on a face similar to his own, with amusement written all over it.

“Little brother!”


	16. Lyanna III

Lyanna tried, truly she did, but her laughter bubbled out anyway. The look on quiet, solemn Eddard Stark’s face was a sight to be seen as he gaped in shock at their eldest brother. Lord Wyman wasn’t any better as he darted his eyes from one Targaryen to the next. Perhaps she should have given them more of a warning.

“Brandon…I… _how_?”

“That’s all you can say? You thought I was dead for 5 years!” Shaking his head, Brandon engulfed Ned in his arms, attempting to lift him off the ground like when they were children. “Gods, that used to be easier,” he laughed, letting go of their brother who still looked dumbfounded. Rolling his eyes, Brandon patted him on the shoulder, “I promise we all will explain, just know that that damn spider is behind it all.” He then threw himself into the chair next to Ned’s, grinning cheerfully at Lord Wyman who just blinked back at him.

Rhaegar stepped closer to her and grasped her hand before addressing Ned. “Lord Stark, I know this a shock and I apologize for the lack of warning. Your brother is right, we will explain. But for now, I believe some introductions need to be made. Lord Manderly?”

The large man seemed to emerge from a daze at Rhaegar’s voice. He quickly rose out of his chair and came to kneel in front of them, Ned following after him, seeming to remember his manners much better than she had.

“Your Grace, New Castle and White Harbor welcome you and your family.”

Rhaegar gestured for both men to stand, smiling gently at them both. “Thank you my lord, it is much appreciated. Allow me to introduce my family.”

Lyanna let her mind wander as her husband introduced Lord Wyman and her brother to the others. She wished this evening would go faster. She, Elia, and Rhaegar had decided that they would stay one night in White Harbor before making the journey to Winterfell. But, now that she was back in Westeros, it was taking Lyanna everything she had not to run out of the keep, mount the nearest horse, and race without stopping to her son.

The sounds of dishes and more footsteps tore Lyanna from her thoughts and she looked up to see the servants bringing in their meal. Rhaegar led her and Elia to the opposite end of the table from Lord Wyman, Elia to his right and Lya to his left. The others chose their seats after that, choosing to forgo etiquette and sit where they pleased. Lyanna ended up with Oberyn to her right and she tensed slightly. They hadn’t spoken much since the Dornish Prince had joined them and though he was never rude to her, sometimes she would catch him staring at her and Rhaegar and Elia, a strange look on his face. She assumed he just needed the reassurance that his sister was truly happy with the arrangement.

Across from Oberyn, sat Aegon. The young prince obviously didn’t want to be separated from his parents so soon after being reunited and it made Lyanna long for Jon even more. She wondered how similar the two princes looked. She knew that Jon had her hair, but his eyes were the blue of most babes when she last saw him and his features weren’t defined enough for her fevered mind to make out. Aegon truly looked like a younger Rhaegar, with a slightly darker skin tone. His eyes also were lighter than her husbands, closer to Rhaella’s and Dany’s in color.

He must have noticed her staring at him because the little prince turned and grinned at her, to which she replied with a beaming smile of her own. Before he had arrived in Pentos, she had worried how Aegon would feel about her, but the worries were needless. He had warmed to her just as his elder sister had and Lyanna was beyond grateful. She couldn’t wait for he and Rhaenys to meet Jon, as well.

 

By the end of the meal, the children were nearly asleep at the table. Allowing the others to escort them to their rooms, Lyanna, Rhaegar, Elia, and Brandon remained with Ned and Lord Wyman. It was then that they explained everything since the rebellion, only hesitating slightly in Wyman’s presence before deciding he had a right to know as well. After they finished their tales, silence permeated the room until Ned cleared his throat, looking at Rhaegar intently.

“What do you plan to do now?” Lyanna felt her husband tense next to her and reached out to grasp his hand, noticing as Elia did the same on his other side. The two women smiled at each other and it gave Lyanna courage for this conversation.

“We plan to take back the Iron Throne,” Rhaegar declared to for the first time to someone outside their group. “The throne belongs to my family, it is my birthright and that of my children’s.” Locking eyes with Ned, the King spoke his next words cautiously. “I know that Robert Baratheon is your friend, your brother in all but blood. But no one can honestly claim that he is a good ruler. And I know that you have no reason to trust that I myself would be any better. But I swear, the wellbeing of the realm and it’s people do matter to me, which is more than anyone can say about Robert.” Ned flinched at that, knowing it to be true. “They will know we live, soon. The Lannisters have spies everywhere. Baratheon will want to bring war to the North, and I am sorry for that. I promise that as we speak, the Royal Fleet is moving to guard your coasts from invasion and attack.”

“You want to start another war?”

“No. I would like for this to be as peaceful and bloodless as possible. But you and I both know that Robert Baratheon would rather tear apart the realm again that have me alive, let alone sitting the throne.” Rhaegar shot a look to her and Brandon, preparing them for what he was about to ask of their brother. “I won’t ask you to fight for my right to the Iron Throne. I won’t threaten you or punish you in anyway. All I ask is that you remain neutral. When Robert orders you to call your banners, as we know he will, do not obey him. Keep your men here in the North.”

Ned stared at him, shocked for a moment. “Why would you offer me that, the choice to remain neutral?”

Rhaegar smiled at him, tightening his grip on Lyanna’s hand before replying, sincerity, ringing in his words. “You are my wife’s brother, the North is her homeland. I do not wish to damage it any way. But, more than that, I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay for taking in my son and keeping him safe all these years. For that, you could choose to fight on Robert’s side and you would still have my eternal gratitude.”

When Rhaegar finished speaking, Ned looked down at his hands, folded on the table. Nervous tension filled the room as the King and his Queens stared at the Warden of the North, holding their breath for his answer. Lyanna saw a variety of emotions fly across her brother’s face, each one gone before she could recognize it. Finally, he looked up from the table, first at Rhaegar, then at Lord Wyman, one of his most loyal lords.

Sensing his hesitance, the Lord of White Harbor spoke up. “Lord Stark, my house has been a loyal servant of your own for over a thousand years. Your ancestors gave mine protection and the chance for a new beginning when they were in need. I fought for you in the Rebellion and helped you put a king on the throne who, as it turns out, should not have been crowned. House Manderly has also, until recent years, always loyally served House Targaryen. Now, having said my piece, I swear that I will fight for you again, on either side, or I will remain neutral if that is your choice. Whichever you decide, I trust your judgement.” Lyanna shared a look with Brandon when Lord Wyman finished speaking, both proud of the loyalty and respect that their brother had earned from one of his most important vassals.

Smiling, Ned bowed his head in gratitude before turning back to face the King. “The North will not sit idly by, safely away from battle while a war rages on. Nor will it fight for a man who cares little for the needs of his realm.” Rising from his seat, Ned moved to stand in front of Rhaegar as he too, stood. “I, Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, hereby recognize you, Rhaegar of House Targaryen, as the rightful Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Protector of the Realm.” Ned then knelt before the King, Lord Wyman joining him. “The North is yours to command, Your Grace.”

When they departed for Winterfell the next morning, King Rhaegar I rode at the front beside Lord Eddard Stark, dragon and wolf banners announcing their presence and alliance to the North.

 

 


	17. Varys II

“Lord Varys,” a mocking voice from behind him caused him to stop. He replied without turning, well acquainted with the voice.

“Lord Baelish.” The man quickly caught up to Varys and the two continued on their way to the small council meeting.

“Any idea why the small council has been called this early in the morning?” The false note in Littlefinger’s tone told Varys that he indeed knew the cause for the meeting. No doubt, he had his spies in the North just as Tywin Lannister did.

“I do not, Lord Baelish.” Varys had been doing all he could to keep any news of the Targaryens quiet these past two weeks, but alas, the whispers and rumors trickled in just as he knew they would. Fortunately, he had been hard at work, preparing for the revelation to the realm. He knew that Dorne was already amassing its army, after Prince Doran received word from his younger brother, and Lord Stark would begin calling his banners after returning to Winterfell. In the Reach, Lady Olenna Tyrell was keeping correspondence with Queen Rhaella and would hopefully be preparing son’s armies, including the Redwyne Fleet. Of course, betrothal contracts would need to be made between the two families, and probably involving the Starks and Martells as well, but no matter. The children were all young, they would have time to get to know each other.

Varys entered the small council chamber behind Baelish, noting that they were the last there, besides the King and the Hand. Stannis Baratheon was standing, awaiting his King, and scowling at the rooms occupants, looking as pleasant as ever. Grand Maester Pycelle appeared to be asleep, though Varys knew he was most likely feigning, and Ser Barristan was standing to next to him frowning disapprovingly. Finally, sitting at one end of the table, was Lord Tywin Lannister, his brother Ser Kevan standing behind him, the ever-present shadow.

Lord Tywin had been in the capitol for nearly a year, arriving shortly after the birth of his granddaughter, Princess Myrcella. No doubt, he came to court to try and sell the princess off to the highest bidder, long before the King and Queen would ever find out. He had since been given the post of Master of Laws, seeing as Robert never named one after he became King.

The sound of the door opening had everyone standing and facing the King as he stomped into the room, closely followed by the Lord Hand, Jon Arryn, and Queen Cersei. The scowls on the royal couple’s faces, and the exasperation on Lord Jon’s, let everyone know that an argument had recently occurred. Probably having to do with Cersei joining the meeting.

The council members bowed, some of them greeting the King and Queen, before Robert flapped his hands at them and moved to sit at the head of the table. “Yes, yes, quit your bowing and simpering. Let’s get this thing over with,” he spat gruffly, wasting no time in filling the nearest glass with wine and drinking deeply. “Alright Lannister, you called this meeting. Out with it.”

Lord Tywin, stoic as ever, returned to his seat and began speaking as the others joined him. “I’ve received reports from the maester in White Harbor of a ship that docked just over a fortnight ago. It was flying no banners, but a group of hooded people made their way from the ship to New Castle, obviously wanting their presence to remain a secret. Maester Theomore was kept away from the mysterious guests, most likely due to his being a member of my house. The next day, however, there were sightings of men carrying the Targaryen dragon banner from the castle gates and heading northwest.” His report was met with some shock, but mostly skepticism.

“How is that possible?” Lord Arryn asked. “The only living Targaryens are Viserys and Daenerys, both children are in struggling in Essos, are they not, Lord Varys?”

Keeping his mask of vague confusion, Varys replied innocently, “Yes, of course, my lords. My little birds report that the young dragons are wandering the Free Cities, alone after the death of Ser Willem Darry.”

“Ha! See Lannister? The dragonspawn won’t ever have the means to return to Westeros. And even if they did, Ned would never allow them into the North, not after what that bastard did to my Lyanna.” The King’s face was already beginning to grow red from drink, his Queen glaring hatefully at him as he poured yet another glass of wine. Lord Tywin merely raised an eyebrow.

“Interesting that you have such faith in your Warden of the North, Your Grace. Even more interesting, is that the reports of Targaryens also claim to have seen the grey and white direwolf banner flying alongside that of the three-headed dragon. Theomore also reported that Ned Stark arrived in White Harbor the night before these apparent Targaryens.” The council members erupted into whispers and murmurs at that, accusations and defenses flying. Varys looked toward the drunk king and almost felt pity for him. The man’s face was one of utter confusion, flashes of hurt beginning to show before he shook his head stubbornly and slammed down his glass.

“Jon! Write to him! Send Ned a raven and ask him what in the seven hells is happening up in that frozen wasteland! He will have a good explanation.” Pouring himself another drink, the King ungracefully stood from his chair, making to leave the room until he was interrupted.

“Your Grace, if I may, I have further news on this matter,” Robert turned to face his Master of Coin, eyes narrowing as he gestured for him to continue. “My friends in the North report that a number of these mysterious visitors have bright, silver hair. One of them, a tall man who has not yet seen thirty years, seems to be leading the party…alongside a man that has been confirmed as Lord Eddard Stark.”

While the council members again reacted to this news, this time with shouts and threats, Varys merely rolled his eyes at Littlefinger’s arrogance. The man may claim that these are reports from his spies, or “friends,” but truthfully, the rumors of Lord Stark traveling with Targaryens were spreading south without the help of Baelish. It was clear that the man had little concern for the Targaryens and much more for the prospect of Ned Stark being in trouble with the King. No matter, Baelish would be dealt with eventually.

“Treason! I want him in King’s Landing, now! Conspiring with Targaryens-“

“The only living Targaryens are children, Robert!”

“Blackfyres then! Dragon bastards! I want all of their heads! Where’s my hammer?!”

“Robert, please…”

Varys drowned the shouts of the King and his Hand, thinking instead of the messages he would need to send North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Thomas, for giving me a Lannister spy in White Harbor:)


	18. Lyanna IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has slash/smut, which I've never written before. It got slightly more descriptive than I intended, but not too bad.

The closer they got to her childhood home, the happier Lyanna became. Winterfell was where she grew up, she had countless memories of her and her brothers running through the halls and playing in the godswood. She could hardly wait to be back inside the safety of the tall, sturdy walls. But even more than that, this was the place where her son had lived for almost five years. It was where he would finally be reunited with his parents.

Reaching the top of one of the North’s rolling hills, the party set eyes on the massive winter fortress, most of them for the first time. She heard Brandon let out a relieved laugh behind her, “Gods, it’s good to be home.” She couldn’t agree more. She felt a hand grasp hers, intertwining their fingers and she looked up to see Elia’s dark, understanding eyes.

“Breathe, my love, Jon will be in your arms in no time.” Lyanna let out a breath of amazed laughter at these words, squeezing the older woman’s hand. She felt another presence come to a stop at her other side and met the sparkling violet eyes of her husband. He grinned happily at them both, gesturing them to continue riding.

“Come, my loves, I believe it’s time that I meet my son.” As the three spurred their horses on, Lyanna watched as Brandon, unable to wait any longer, took off at a break-neck speed, whooping loudly as he went. Ned sighed exasperatedly.

“He’s going to give everyone a heart attack. No one knows he’s alive.” Even still, he made no move to go after his brother, instead looking after him with a small smile. Seeing this as permission, Lyanna nudged her horse faster, leaving the others behind and quickly catching up with her brother. She heard a curse behind her and turned slightly, laughing delightedly when she saw Ned quickly following after them. This was something she remembered from her childhood, racing around the North with her brothers, laughing loudly and often. It made her feel like a young girl again.

The three eldest Stark siblings skidded to a halt once they were through the open gates of the keep, still laughing and each claiming to be the victor. Lyanna was about to proclaim for all to hear that she had clearly arrived first when she spotted a tall, thin, barely of age man standing at the large double doors. His light blue eyes were wide and filled with tears as they jumped back and forth between the new arrivals. Benjen, her little brother. He had grown so much! But what truly captured her attention was the small boy standing next to him, hand clasped in the man’s.

Inhaling sharply, Lyanna dismounted, straightening her riding gown, and slowly walked towards them. Her eyes trailed all over the boy, unable to focus on one part of him. His black hair was curly and wild, just like hers had always been as a child. His pale face was long but showing signs of future definition in his jaw and cheekbones. And his eyes, she noticed as she came to s a stop in front of him and knelt to his level, were a silvery grey like hers, but darker, so dark they were almost black. She vaguely wondered if, in certain light, they would have flecks of violet in them as Rhaenys’s did.

“Jon…” she trailed off, not entirely sure what to say. She wanted to pull him into her arms but was worried about frightening him. He was five years old now, and had spent all that time thinking Ned was his father. It had to be more than a little confusing for him to discover the truth.

Biting his lip nervously, Jon glanced at Benjen for reassurance before shyly smiling at Lyanna. She felt a tear fall down her cheek and quickly wiped it away. There were sounds of hooves behind her and she absently realized that the others had finally entered the walls. She knew Rhaegar would be making his way over to her and their son any second so she wanted to make sure that Jon was ready to meet him as well. She smiled kindly at the boy before asking him if he knew who she was.

“Yes,” he nodded before shooting another quick glance at Benjen. “Uncle Benjen said that…Uncle Ned had to pretend to be my father to keep me safe. But that my parents were truly Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. You’re my mother, aren’t you?” His big, grey eyes stared up at her desperately, pleading with her to say yes.

Choking back a sob, Lyanna nodded quickly before her son threw himself in her arms. She stood up, clinging to him and returned the watery smile her little brother was giving her. She noticed his eyes widen slightly and turned around to see Rhaegar staring longingly at the boy in her arms.

She beamed at him before whispering in her son’s ear, “Jon, would you like to meet your father?” She giggled when she felt him nod against her shoulder, “Well you’ll have to look up, sweetling.”

Jon raised his head, smiling happily at her husband, “Hello, Father.” Rhaegar grinned widely and Lyanna allowed him to pull their son into his arms. The tears were streaming down her face now and she wasn’t sure she had ever been this happy in her life. It then occurred to her that Rhaegar had been united with his child three times now and she wondered how his heart hadn’t burst with love as hers was threatening to do.

Moving her gaze from her husband and son, she saw Elia standing between Rhaenys and Aegon, and she motioned them over to her.

“Jon,” she waited for him to turn in Rhaegar’s arms before she continued, “This is Elia and these are your brother and sister, Aegon and Rhaenys.” Her husband set the little boy down next to his siblings and the three parents watched in amusement as Rhaenys began to chatter excitedly as the boys smiled shyly at each other.

“Lya…” at the voice, she whipped around and wrapped her brother in a tight embrace, introducing him to her family. Brandon and Ned soon joined them and it occurred to her that her brother and son were the only ones in the courtyard to greet the arrivals. When asked about this, the youngest Stark sibling shrugged sheepishly before looking to Ned.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted the entire household to know that Lyanna was Jon’s mother, so I ordered them all inside. Although now that I think about it, they’ve probably been watching from the windows anyway.” They all glanced up and, sure enough, a few of the windows showed people quickly ducking out of view.

“It’s alright Ben. We’ll have a feast tonight to make the announcements. Where are my wife and children though?” At Ned’s words, Benjen scowled slightly.

“Lady Stark thought the children would be in the way of the happy reunion.”

Lyanna raised her eyebrows in shock at Benjen’s sarcastic tone and Ned’s weary sigh. The Lord of Winterfell introduced Benjen to the rest of their guests before asking him to show them to their rooms. “I must go inform my lady wife and Maester Luwin of the extra guests I’ve brought with me. I’ll let you all rest and then we shall feast tonight in the Great Hall.” Watching her brother enter the keep, she turned to Benjen expectantly.

“Have we done something to offend the Lady Catelyn, little brother?” Benjen rolled his eyes a bit, sighing.

“Let me show everyone to their rooms, you all must be tired. We can talk more later, Lya.”

 

Later turned out to be only minutes, as once everyone was shown to their rooms, Lyanna dragged Benjen into her own, Rhaegar and Elia trailing after them. Rhaenys had convinced Jon and Brandon to show her, Aegon, and Daenerys around, so they were able to talk freely once the door closed behind them. 

“Explain, Benjen. There was an awful lot of tension when you mentioned our good-sister.”

“Ned only just told us the truth of your survival and Jon’s parentage the night before he left. I had always suspected that Jon might be yours, so it wasn’t that great of a shock to me. I understood that Ned hid it from us for everyone’s safety, but Cat didn’t. She’s angry with him for lying to her all these years.”

Elia frowned at that. “Why would she be so angry? Lyanna said her and Lady Catelyn had only ever spoke a few times, she can’t have been that upset that her husband kept Lya’s survival a secret.”

Benjen shifted uncomfortably where he sat on a sofa and Lyanna resisted the urge hit him until he continued speaking. “Ben?”

“She’s angry because she spent the last four years believing Jon to be Ned’s natural-born son. To her, he was a living reminder of her husband breaking his vows to her.” Lyanna tensed, feeling dread pool in her stomach at those words. There was something he wasn’t saying and she wasn’t sure she would like it.

“Lord Benjen, how exactly has my son been treated by the Lady of Winterfell?” Rhaegar’s voice had a dark edge to it as he moved to the window and looked around the grounds, as if searching for Jon. Elia sat down next to Lyanna, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist and causing her to relax slightly.

Benjen seemed hesitant to reply at first, most likely fearing the King’s wrath, but looking at his sister’s pleading face, he knew he couldn’t refuse her. “Not well. She’s never physically harmed him but she has never been kind to him either. She often tries to keep him separated from her own children, to little avail, and is deeply angered when Ned spends time with Jon. She’s always referred to him as “Snow” or “the Bastard” but not in my presence, or Ned’s. Or Robb’s anymore now that I think on it. He got quite angry at her the last time.”

Elia’s arms around her were the only thing keeping Lyanna in the room. She had always thought Catelyn seemed like a pleasant woman, a bit too uptight, but friendly all the same. Now, she would love nothing more than to throw the woman off the highest tower of the keep. Movement out of the corner of her eye reminded her that Rhaegar was in the room as well. He looked as angry as she’d ever seen him. He walked towards his wives, kissing both of them on the cheek before he made to leave the room.

“Rhaegar,” Elia called. “Where are you going?” He turned back to look at them and the anger was gone, replaced by a deep sadness.

“To see my son and make certain he understands that he never deserved such treatment.”

 

Hours later, Rhaegar was still gone and Benjen had went to find Brandon. Lyanna was lying on her bed, Elia’s arms wrapped around her. Neither woman said a word, just basking in the comfortable silence. Lyanna still wanted to go to Catelyn but she was slightly calmer now and figured she should wait until she didn’t want to physically harm the older woman.

“You are thinking too much, I can practically hear your mind racing.” Lyanna smiled, turning to face the Dornish woman. They were so close that their noses nearly touched. For weeks they had been dancing around each other, trading heated glances and accidental touches. It shocked her at first, when she realized how she felt about Elia, but not so much that she would run away from it. The fact that she accepted her own feelings shocked her even more.

The North was even more conservative that the rest of Westeros when compared to Dorne. And she knows that to many Northerners, her relationship with her fellow Queen would be ridiculed and judged. But she didn’t care. Just because she and Elia were married to the King, does not give the entire realm a right to their personal lives. They should only be concerned with the prosperity of the Seven Kingdoms. And, as far as Lyanna knew, whether or not she wanted to bed another woman had little effect on said prosperity.

“Perhaps you should distract me from my thoughts then, my Queen.”

Elia’s gentle smile turned mischievous as she pulled her impossibly closer, slowly drawing their lips together. Dragging one hand through her hair and the other grazing up and down Lyanna’s side, Elia moulded their mouths together and the younger woman vaguely wondered why they hadn’t been doing this all along.

The two women continued kissing, running their hands over each other, sometimes feverishly before slowing down to savor the feeling. After a few minutes, Lyanna rolled to her back, pulling the slight woman on top of her. She moaned quietly as Elia rested her weight fully on top of her, loving that there was no space between them. Fingers tightened in hair and groped at curves as their lips moved more intensely. Elia tore her mouth away, dragging it down Lyanna’s neck, sucking and biting little marks into her pale skin.

Lyanna gasped Elia’s name over and over as she continued to kiss down her chest, hesitating for only a moment before unlacing the front of her dress. The Dornish woman sat up then, straddling her hips and slowly reaching out to pull Lyanna’s dress away, sliding it down her shoulders a bit. She did the same with the shift underneath until Lyanna’s breasts were exposed to her. Pulse racing and heat burning through her body, Lyanna slid her hands up Elia’s sides, fingers grazing her breasts lightly and causing Elia to sigh out her name. Her hands continued until she held the other woman’s face, bringing it down until their lips crashed together again, their tongues tangling with each other.

Again, Elia pulled their lips apart and hurried back down to Lyanna’s chest, looking up at her with dark, wanton eyes. The older woman smirked before leaning down capturing her nipple in her mouth, rolling it repeatedly with her tongue. Lyanna cried out in shock and then pleasure as she wound her fingers in her lover’s dark hair.

So caught up in the pleasure Elia was giving her, Lyanna only vaguely heard a knock at the door which was quickly followed by it being opened and then closed again. She looked up, eyes half-closed and hazy, to see her husband leaning against the door. His eyes were locked on her bare chest where Elia was still licking and sucking on her skin. Lyanna managed to smirk at him, noticing a distinct tightness in the fabric of his breeches.

“Elia…I believe Rhaegar is feeling left out…” she immediately regretted saying anything when Elia pulled away to glance over her shoulder. She grinned knowingly at him before climbing off Lyanna, who whimpered in longing.

“Do not worry, my love. I’m just going to make us more comfortable.” She then stood from the bed, facing away from their husband and pulled at her gown and shift and small clothes until she was standing completely nude. Lyanna trailed her eyes over the newly revealed tan skin, biting her lip to keep from moaning at the sight of the beautiful woman. She made to sit up but Elia shook her head, moving back to her and divesting her of her own remaining clothing. Once she finished, Elia placed her hands on Lyanna’s knees, pulling them apart and lifting them slightly. Lyanna began breathing faster as her lover got on the bed, between her knees. Elia made herself comfortable before glancing over her shoulder once again at their husband. “Come, husband, you’ll miss everything if you stay all the way over there.” Without waiting for any sort of response, Elia dove down and began licking and kissing and sucking at Lyanna’s lower lips. The younger woman let out a high-pitched moan, a shudder making it’s way down her entire body. She pried her eyes open and groaned when she saw that Rhaegar was quickly removing his clothes. She stared for a moment at his lithe form, his manhood already leaking, before reaching out her left hand and begging him to join her and Elia.

He swooped down and kissed her deeply until she pulled away to moan loudly as Elia increased the pace of her tongue. Lyanna’s eyes fluttered closed as Rhaegar trailed his mouth down her neck and across her shoulders and breasts, leaving his own marks along with the ones Elia had made. With the combined efforts of Rhaegar’s mouth and hands at her breasts and Elia’s mouth between her legs, Lyanna felt the heat and tightness in her belly increase until she flew over the pleasurable edge, moaning and gasping her lovers names repeatedly. She felt Elia pull away and sighed as the older woman came up and brought their mouths back together. Distracted by the feeling of Elia’s tongue dancing with hers, she hadn’t noticed her husband move until he was cradled between her knees and sinking into her with a groan. She yelped in surprise, tangling one of her hands with his while the other found it’s way between Elia’s legs, her fingers easily sliding through the wetness. Rhaegar was again kissing at her breasts as he thrust into her over and over, while Elia continued to kiss her deeply, moaning into her mouth at the feeling of Lyanna’s fingers inside of her.

Elia finished minutes later, whispering Lyanna’s name into her ear as Rhaegar rubbed his thumb hard over her clit, bringing her to climax for the second time. It wasn’t long until Rhaegar was groaning her name and spilling his seed inside her.

The three of them lay entwined with each other, silent but for their still-heavy breathing. Lyanna curled herself into Rhaegar’s chest as Elia’s arms wrapped around her waist.

“You know, I had come to tell you that we should get ready for the feast, before you both distracted me.” Elia laughed in response, her breath fanning over Lyanna’s neck, making her shiver.

“Well next time, we won’t invite you. It won’t do for the King to be so easily distracted by his Queens.”

Laughing, Lyanna sat up and kissed both of her lovers before climbing off of the bed. “I suppose we won’t have time to bathe now,” she murmured, walking to one of her trunks that were brought in earlier. She pick out a light wool, Stark grey dress and turned to hold it up to Elia and Rhaegar. “Is this too plain for a feast? I figured it’s only our family and the Winterfell household so it shouldn’t matter too much…” she trailed off when she noticed that neither of the two seemed to be listening her but were instead trailing their eyes up and down her naked body, eyes growing dark. Sighing, she quickly got dressed, giggling at the disappointed moans coming from the bed, “Hurry up, you both, or we’ll be late to our own feast!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon, I'll be getting into strategy/battle stuff and I'll warn you now, it's going to be quite unrealistic as I'm not like...a strategy or war enthusiast. But, I was wondering if you guys had any opinions about the sizes of armies in each of the Kingdoms? I've tried to research it but there are a lot of different answers and so I wanted your opinions seeing as your the ones who will be reading it. Thank you!!


	19. Ashara I

The King and his Queens were late. Winterfell’s guests were being welcomed by Lord and Lady Stark with a small feast, just amongst them and the Stark family and household. Said lord and lady were already seated to one side of the head table, leaving the the three middle chairs for Rhaegar, Lyanna, and Elia. Next to them were Benjen and Brandon Stark, who was looking supremely uncomfortable being so close to his former betrothed. On the other side of what was to be Elia’s seat, sat Queen Rhaella and Prince Oberyn, then Ashara and her brother Ser Arthur.

Looking down the table, Ashara noticed that the royals’s absence, although certainly noticed, was thankfully ignored by most everyone. The Stark brothers were laughing merrily, reminiscing, while Oberyn and Arthur were discussing the prince’s correspondence with Prince Doran. The Queen Rhaella was watching the children sitting at the lower table, a fond smile on her lovely face as Aegon, Jon , and little Robb Stark huddled together, giggling and most likely planning some sort of mischief. Daenerys and Rhaenys were both being regaled with stories by an ancient woman Brandon called Old Nan, both of them looking at her in fascination.

Ashara smiled, enjoying the relaxed, happy atmosphere, until she noticed that Catelyn Stark was not enjoying the feast as the rest were. The red-haired woman had a disapproving frown on her face as she shot glances at the three empty seats and her husband, who seemed to be ignoring her in favor of his brothers. Ashara looked away quickly when Catelyn turned her eyes towards her. Though she couldn’t see, she swore she felt the woman’s Tully blue eyes boring into the side of her head and she smirked slightly.

She knew, of course, that coming to Winterfell wasn’t the best idea now that Catelyn was aware which Stark had been the father of Ashara’s child. The woman certainly wasn’t pleased that Brandon had cared so little for their betrothal that he had gotten a child on another woman, a highborn one at that. It probably did little to ease her tension seeing both Ashara and Brandon in Winterfell, perfectly content in each other’s company.

It wasn’t so comfortable between them at first. After almost five years of thinking the other one dead, neither Ashara nor Brandon truly knew how to act around the other. They had no idea as to each other’s feelings as it was so long ago that they were together. And truly, there wasn’t a day that went by without Ashara grieving for her daughter that never even took a breath. Seeing Brandon made it that much worse, even though she was certain she was just as mad for him as she had been when they met. After days of nervous tension and aborted eye contact, Elia and Lyanna of all people told them to get it together and actually speak to each other. So they did.

Brandon told her that after meeting her, he had no intention of marrying Catelyn, that he just needed to speak to her father and his to make arrangements. He told her that before he had the chance, Lyanna disappeared and from there everything spiraled out of control. She told him of being banished from King’s Landing once the Mad King learned of her dishonor and how before she reached Starfall, Varys’s servants caught up with her, trusting her to keep Aegon safe. She then cried as she told him of birthing their daughter and wanting to throw herself from the window when she did not live. The only thing that kept her from doing so was the promise she made to herself to keep Elia’s son safe.

Since then, she and Brandon had fallen into a close friendship, but have yet to take it further. They also decided, on the way to Winterfell, that they would keep their distance, so as to not cause any potential upset to Lady Stark. Ashara thought it a bit ridiculous though. The woman was Lady of Winterfell, wife of the Ward of the North, who happened to be a good, kind man that clearly loved her. They had three beautiful children together and seemed like equals when it came to running the Northern kingdom. Ashara couldn’t think of any reason why Catelyn would still hold a grudge against her and Brandon when her life had turned out so content. But if the prideful woman wanted to be petty, then Ashara would avoid her and keep her distance from Brandon. It would be most rude to cause trouble while she was a guest here in Winterfell.

It wasn’t until King Rhaegar and Queens Elia and Lyanna entered the hall that she felt Catelyn’s glare leave her and she was thankful for their interruption until she noticed the flushed state of them. That certainly wouldn’t endear them to Lady Stark. The three made their way to their seats as the rest of the hall stood and bowed until the the rulers were seated.

Ashara heard Rhaegar make some sort of excuse for their tardiness, charming his listeners with a bright smile but she was more focused on Elia. Once they were reunited, the two Dornish women wasted no time in becoming as close as sisters again and it wasn’t long before Elia told her of her feelings for the younger Queen. Ashara was shocked at first, she had always worried how Elia would deal with her husband’s second wife, but once she watched the three of them together, it made sense. They complimented each other, the King and his Queens. Where Rhaegar and Lyanna were dreamers, Elia was more grounded. And where he was often too serious, his wives were quick to laugh and brighten a room’s mood. All three were kind and good and charming but in different ways. Together, they would make wonderful rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.

Smiling at the three pairs of flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, Ashara ignored the disapproval radiating off of Lady Stark and decided to enjoy the feast.

 

It wasn’t a week later Ned received a raven from the Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn. Lord Arryn told his former ward that there had been rumors of Targaryens in the North and it was putting the King and his small council on edge. He assured Ned that the North and their Warden were not being accused of anything, just questioned. The beginning of the message had been formal, from one Lord to another, but by the end, Lord Jon was pleading with Ned for answers and hoping that things weren’t as they seemed. He mentioned that the King was nearly apoplectic with rage and had very nearly ridden North to confront Ned himself. At the end of the letter was a warning. Jon Arryn informed him that Tywin Lannister was already beginning to call his banners and letters were being drafted to lords throughout the realm, warning them of another possible war with Targaryens. 

Lord Stark had just finished reading the letter aloud to those gathered in his solar. He and Rhaegar were locked in a stare, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation. All three Targaryen women were seated on the sofa, awaiting some sort of response from their King. Ashara and Oberyn were stood behind them while Brandon, Benjen and Arthur were near the window, all five glancing back and fourth between the two men.

The tension in the room was only broken, and then increased, when Lady Stark entered the room. She stared around at them, lips pursed as usual, before looking questioningly to her husband. Silently, he handed her the letter before sitting behind his desk, Rhaegar taking a seat opposite him.

Finishing the letter, Catelyn handed it back to her husband, a look of disbelief on her face. “So this is it, then? You’re truly going to help start another war, so soon after the last one?” Ashara tried not to roll her eyes, the woman did somewhat have a point after all. But for someone so proper, questioning her husband in front of his King and advisors wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Seeming offended on her brother’s behalf, Lyanna spoke up, drawing the ire of her good-sister.

“Lady Catelyn, I assure you, the war will barely touch the North. You and your children will be safe here in Winterfell. And I do believe the Northmen answer to my brother, not to his wife. Seeing as he has already sworn allegiance to my husband, the King, you have little say in the matter.” Lyanna’s eyes flashed dangerously at the older woman and Ashara remembered that there was already tension between the two regarding Catelyn’s treatment of the youngest prince. The room’s occupants collectively held their breath, as if anticipating some sort of explosion between the two.

“What makes you think my husband’s bannermen will also swear allegiance? Or that they will fight a war to put a man on the throne whose father they fought to remove? It’s been 5 years since you were last in Westeros, _Lady_ Lyanna, the aftermath of the Rebellion had no effect on you,” Catelyn nearly spat the words at Lyanna. Both Rhaegar and Ned rose from their chairs, in outrage and worry, respectively. Lyanna, though, seemed to care little for the mocking way that the redhead addressed her.

“I was separated from my entire family for years because of the rebellion, I was exiled to Essos, away from my brothers, and thinking that my husband was dead! My son grew up thinking that he was a bastard, something, as I’m told, you had no trouble reminding him every chance you had!” Lyanna was standing now, a mere foot from Catelyn, her eyes were burning into the older woman and her lips nearly pulled back into a snarl like that of her family’s sigil. The men in the room were hovering nervously, prepared to separate them if need be, while both Elia and Rhaella simply gazed at Lyanna proudly, both of them having been waiting for her to confront the other woman.

Catelyn scoffed lightly at Lyanna’s words. When she spoke next, Ashara wondered if she had completely forgotten that they weren’t the only two in the room. “You are the reason for the rebellion. If you had just been content to do your duty like every other highborn girl, none of it would have happened. Instead, your selfish desires caused you to run off with a married man and produce a child that will never be seen as a prince. The Faith will not accept your marriage, and they will not accept you bastard.”

There was utter silence that still spoke of a million things. Arthur had his hand on his sword, whether waiting for an attack or wanting to himself, Ashara wasn’t sure. Oberyn had wrapped his arms around Elia’s waist, as her friend looked to be moments away from throwing herself on Lady Stark. Ashara moved to stand next to them, laying a hand on the Queen’s arm. The Stark brothers had varying shades of anger clouding their features and she pitied Ned for he would clearly be torn between his little sister and the mother of his children. Rhaegar, though, he was still as a statue, his face completely unreadable but for the tension in his jaw and the absolute fire that was burning in his violet eyes. Ashara had never seen a more dangerous man and if she had an ounce of tolerance for the Tully woman, she would have been terrified for her.

The King gently pushed Lyanna towards his mother, Rhaella quickly comforting her good-daughter, but never took his eyes off the woman who had just so thoroughly insulted his wife and son.

“Lady Stark,” he spoke softly butAshara swore it could be heard across the kingdoms. “You should consider yourself lucky. If you were not the wife of my Warden of the North and the mother of his heir, you would have been in a cell by now. You have insulted a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and a Prince of the Iron Throne, the words you speak are treasonous and would cost you your head. Perhaps, though, my offering mercy to you will show the realm that I am not my father. I don’t believe I need to explain what he would have had done to you.”

Catelyn Stark suck in a sharp breath, her entire frame shaking in fear before the quietly enraged man. The King took a step away from her and she shot a quick glance to her husband before fleeing the room. Without looking at or speaking to anyone else, Rhaegar took Lyanna in his arms and held out a hand for Elia before they too departed. The others glance around at each other, unsure what to say.

“Ned…you know that the King had every right to speak to her that way, this should not color your judgement of him,” Brandon spoke quietly, clearly worried that his brother would take the confrontation as an insult to his wife.

“I know that Brandon. I just can’t believe she would speak to Lyanna like that, especially in front of everyone here,” shaking his head, Lord Stark shot a forced smile at his brothers and an apologetic glance to the room at large. “I am sorry for my wife’s actions. Please do not think that I, in any way, share her opinions. But I do believe we will need to write to Lord Tully for his support before his daughter sends him an over-dramatized version of todays events.” When he received a nod from Rhaella, he exited the room.

It was Oberyn who broke the silence that descended again, an amused edge to his tone. “Well it’s become quite clear that Winterfell will not be safe for the Queens and the children to stay during the coming war. Shall I write to my brother and let him know he will soon have Royal guests?”


	20. Rhaegar III

After the incident with Lady Stark, Rhaegar and his wives remained in his rooms for the rest of the day basking in the love and acceptance they could only get from each other. Every so often, one of them would think too much on the words Catelyn spoke and they would drift into melancholy before being distracted by the touches and kisses of their lovers. They knew it would be a difficult task, convincing the realm to accept them, due to their strange marriage, and the fact that Rhaegar was a Targaryen. But they hadn’t thought they would be confronted with such animosity and harsh judgement by those who were supposed to be their family and allies.

Rhaegar knew that Lyanna still felt guilty for the Rebellion. But, he truly believed no blame should be placed on her. Yes, breaking a betrothal with the Lord of Storm’s End would have caused tension but Rhaegar was prepared to offer Robert almost anything as recompense. And both he and Lyanna were adamant about leaving a letter for Brandon, and planned to go to Winterfell to make amends with her father once they were married. It was certainly neither of their fault that the letter was destroyed. Nor were they to blame for Brandon’s hot-headedness. But still, his wife was the reason Robert Baratheon went to war, though the rest of the rebels were fighting for much bigger reasons, and she will carry that guilt for years.

 

Later that evening, after Elia and Lya were asleep, Rhaegar went in search of Ned and found him drafting letters in his Solar. He knocked on the open door before entering and taking a seat opposite his good-brother.

“Your Grace, I-“ Rhaegar quickly interrupted him, shaking his head.

“Please, I believe the titles are unnecessary unless we are in a more public setting. After everything I’ve asked of you, I think we can dispense with the formalities.”

“Rhaegar,” Ned smiled slightly at him. “I cannot express how sorry I am for what my wife said and did today. Making a scene such as that and showing such little respect for you and my sister was most unlike her,” he sighed. Rhaegar noted that he seemed deeply saddened by the day’s events and he felt guilty for causing such strife in the man’s home. “Catelyn is a good woman, truly. Respectful and dutiful and a wonderful wife and mother. But she has been different since I told her the truth about Jon and Lyanna, she can’t seem to get passed her anger at me. And instead of taking it out on the one who deserves it, she expresses it to others.”

“I understand why she would be angry about the coming war. The rebellion affected her life greatly and she worries for you and her children. But I will not allow anyone to treat my family as she did today.” One of the reasons Rhaegar had been drawn to Lyanna was her spirited nature and that she cared not what most people thought of her. But Catelyn’s words had broken his wife, he had seen her eyes dim drastically and he wanted nothing more than for her spark to return. He didn’t think he could forgive the woman for this reason.

Ned nodded emphatically, “Of course. How is my sister, by the way? I went to her rooms to speak with her but her handmaidens said she was with you and Queen Elia.” Rhaegar smiled slightly at the blush that appeared on the other man’s face at those words. Wanting to end his discomfort, he quickly replied.

“She is feeling better, I believe. Still upset, of course. I doubt she will forget Lady Catelyn’s words anytime soon. She’s asleep now but I can tell her in the morning that you wish to see her.

“Thank you. For relaying the message and for caring for my sister. I wasn’t sure how I would feel about your marriage, and I still don’t understand it, but Lyanna is safe and happy. That’s what is most important.” Ned then shuffled through the letters he had been writing, bringing Rhaegar’s attention to them. “I’ve begun writing to my bannermen. It takes longer than most kingdoms for the Northern forces to gather so I wanted to get an early start. Especially considering Tywin Lannister is already raising his own armies.”

Rhaegar nodded in agreement before asking how many men the North could field.

“At first, no more than 20,000. It will take a couple more months to gather another 10,000. Prince Oberyn claims that Dorne can field 20,000 as well.”

“Yes. That gives us 50,000 guaranteed men. With the Royal Fleet it’s another 10,000. Tywin Lannister could gather at least 40,000, with plenty of resources to either buy or raise more armies if he needs them. And the Stormlands can field around 25,000.” Rhaegar chewed his lip in thought. How he wished that no war had to happen at all. Thinking of all these numbers only made him realize that many of these men would die soon.

“They outnumber us, with the potential to do so even further.” Ned gazed out the window, deep in thought. “Tomorrow, we shall send a raven to Hoster Tully. I cannot guarantee that he will fight on our side. And I do not know if he would stay neutral. He once mentioned though, that before Harrenhall, he had the utmost faith in your ability to be a strong and good ruler. Mayhap once he learns you did not kidnap my sister in some fit of madness, his faith in you will be restored.”

Rhaegar knew that many of the lords of the realm had anticipated his ascension to the throne. They had no love for his father, understandably, and Rhaegar had always been well-liked by the high and low born. Each of the heads of the Great houses were aware of his plot to overthrow his father and they wanted Rhaegar on the throne then. So, if he could make amends and give proper explanations, hopefully he would be able to gain back their trust and respect.

“I also do not believe that Jon Arryn will fight against Robert, or myself. You should expect neutrality from the Vale. What about the Crownlands?

“Most will be unable get their armies to us for command. They’re too close to Robert. He will certainly order the lords to raise their armies in defense of Kings Landing, as they can field 15,000 at most. They will be of little help to us until we can move closer to the capitol. Houses Velaryon, Celtigar, and Bar Emmon however, will be involved in taking Dragonstone.” Moving to the map that had been placed on a table, Rhaegar pointed to the islands in Blackwater Bay. “House Massey and House Staunton will most likely be able to get their men to Dragonstone as well. It has to be done before the war progresses too much though, Robert and the Lannisters will be suspicious of the lords in the Crownlands already.”

“You plan to take Dragonstone?” When Rhaegar nodded, Ned continued with a skeptical tone. “Is that from where you will launch your campaign? You have control of the Royal Fleet so there would be little resistance if you took King’s Landing from there. I suppose it would end the war sooner this way.” Rhaegar was shaking his head before his good-brother finished speaking.

“No, I will not even be on Dragonstone. Some of the Royal Fleet and the men from the Crownlands will take my ancestral seat in my name. This will ensure that no aid will come to Robert by sea and we would have a clear path into the capitol.” He moved the map pieces around to illustrate his words before looking up to Ned with a wry smile. “I am not Aegon the Conqueror. I have no dragons to bend the Kingdoms to my will, and I am glad of that. I want to be respected, not feared. If I took Dragonstone and launched the war from there, you’re right, it would end quickly once King’s Landing was reclaimed. However, the Lannisters would flee back west to bide their time. Do you truly think Tywin Lannister would stop at anything to have someone of his blood on the throne? And, if I did things this way, I would not be allowing the realm a choice, and it would cause unrest and distrust. There would be no peace and the probability of further war would be high.

“So, Dragonstone will be taken merely to safeguard Blackwater Bay and to make a point, as it’s the ancestral Targaryen seat. But we will lead the Northern armies south, converging with those of Dorne and the Reach, keeping the Lannister and Baratheon forces apart.”

Ned seemed relieved at his answer and approving of the vague plan so far. “Are you certain of the Tyrell’s allying with us? They bent the knee to Robert easily after the rebellion.”

“Yes, they are an ambitious lot and were most likely eager to gain favor with their new King. However, Robert and the Lannisters have little love for the Tyrells, there is a fair amount of tension between them because of their loyalty to my family. And, as I said, their ambition nearly matches that of Tywin Lannister. Lady Olenna rules Highgarden and the Reach in her son’s name and she is an intelligent woman, she knows that with the size of their armies, whoever the Tyrell’s ally with will likely emerge as the victor.”

“You believe they will support you because they are only barely tolerated by Robert? Surely they will want something else for their support? Marriages and betrothals most like,” Ned scowled at this.

“Yes, marriages and betrothals indeed, with my children and most likely yours and Prince Doran’s as well. But I am not so willing to take away the choices of our children. Tentative agreements can certainly be made, as well as plenty of fostering.” Rhaegar knew that this would make things difficult, the Tyrells would certainly want at least two royal betrothals. But he had seen the effects of unwanted marriages and betrothals and he wasn’t keen oninflicting that kind of life on his children. Ned gave a relieved sigh at this and Rhaegar knew he was making the right choice, even though it wasn’t the easy one. “But, we will discuss that more when we can meet with Lady Olenna. For now, it’s getting late and we have much to do in the coming week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know that Rhaegar not wanting to agree to any betrothals is ridiculous. No way are the Tyrells going to agree to anything without ensuring their children will marry princes or princesses. However, I'm not completely sure which pairings I want to go with so I used this as an excuse for now. I'll have it decided by the time they meet Olenna:)


	21. Rhaella II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! This is quite a bit later than I wanted, and I have a few chapters written, they just need to be edited. And thank you for all your opinions on different ships, I'm definitely taking them into consideration:)

_10_ _ th _ _month of the 285 AC_

_Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms,_

_For the past five years you have been ruled by a man who, in his mind, has brought a peaceful period. He would be right. There has been no war, no attacks, no fighting between kingdoms. However, there has also been tension and poverty and indifference coming from the man who sits the Iron Throne._

_Robert Baratheon’s main goal in rebelling was to dispose of all Targaryens. Not because of my father’s tyranny, but because of his hatred of me, Rhaegar Targaryen. This hatred is of course understandable but by no means was it worthy of a rebellion. So, after being saved by the loyal Kingsguard, my family and I have waited and regained our strength across the Narrow Sea. But it is now time for our return._

_I am not my father. I do not burn people alive or punish those who do not deserve it. I also do not kidnap young maidens. Lyanna Stark went with me of her own free will, married me on Dragonstone, and is at my side as I write this declaration. She saw Robert Baratheon as the man he truly was long before the rest of the realm did._

_King Robert is a man who drinks and feasts his way through the gold the realm works heard to earn. He spends it on tournaments and extravagances rather than aiding his people. He is the sort of king who looks down on a slaughtered woman and her blood-covered children with no remorse, for he sees dragon-spawn rather than murdered babes._

_The very idea of another war pains me more than I can say. But I cannot allow that sort of man to continue to plunge the realm into disrepair. If you wish to fight along side me, I will welcome you gladly. If you wish to stay out of the war, I will respect your neutrality. I will retake the Iron Throne with the help of my allies and my family and I swear that, when I do, those of you who have been ignored or hurt in any way by your king will see prosperity under my rule._

_Rhaegar of House Targaryen_

_Prince of Dragonstone_

 

 

Rhaella finished the letter that was currently making it’s way across Westeros. It was hard to believe that after waiting so long in Essos, they were finally taking back their family’s legacy. She was worried, of course. Robert Baratheon nearly killed her son once and he would now have Tywin Lannister on his side with the man’s daughter as his queen. If there was one thing she knew about Lord Tywin, it was that his ambition and determination knew no bounds. He would stop at nothing to keep his grandson as the heir to the throne.

But she could be just as determined. Her son would rule. His children and grandchildren would rule after him. Rhaella was unwilling to entertain any other prospect. She had not known, when Aerys sent her and Viserys to Dragonstone, that Rhaegar would live. She had hidden the family’s wealth and taken control of the fleet so that she could one day put Viserys on the Iron Throne. She must admit, that when Rhaegar was brought to the island, she was beyond relieved. Already Viserys had been showing similarities to his father and she worried about his potential as a ruler.

She sighed sadly as her thoughts turned to her second son. They had left him in Pentos despite his rage-filled protests and tantrums. Illyrio promised to look after him but it wasn’t his safety she was concerned with. She and Rhaegar had told Viserys that once King’s Landing was taken, they would send for him, but she wasn’t so sure that was wise. He was not pleased with the survival of Aegon and Jon for it pushed his claim as Rhaegar’s heir further away. She loved her young son, truly she did, but she could never trust him. She would do whatever it took to keep him away from her grandchildren.

Viserys could certainly not be considered for a betrothal to the Tyrells. If they had the chance to put their only daughter on the throne, they would certainly do so. They would do anything for power. This was why she advised Rhaegar not to entertain the idea of marrying Aegon or Jon to young Margaery Tyrell, it would give the Tyrells too much power. It would be much wiser to consider Rhaenys for young Lord Willas, Highgarden’s heir. Or any future daughters that Rhaegar’s wives might give him. But she knew that her son wasn’t keen on the idea of betrothing any of his children at the moment so they had time to consider things.

A knock at her door interrupted the Queen’s musings. Calling for them to enter, she smiled fondly when her daughter, grandchildren, and Robb stumbled into the room. Every few days they would search her out, wanting to hear any of the Targaryen stories of old that she could remember. Rhaella knew that Lady Catelyn wasn’t best pleased to have her son spending time with the Targaryen children but the younger woman hadn’t spoken her disapproval.

“Hello, my dears, what tale have you come for today?” She moved over to the sofa that they had gathered around and watched in amusement as they all shared a quick glance before Rhaenys spoke.

“Daeron the Young Dragon!”

 

The following afternoon Rhaella was in Rhaegar’s solar with her son and good-daughters when they received a message from Lord Varys. Evidently the Island Lords of the Crownlands had begun making their way to Dragonstone and Varys was certain that they would have control of the island within a fortnight. Stannis Baratheon, his wife, and daughter were in King’s Landing as he is Robert’s master of ships. So the only resistance will be the small force of Baratheon men that Stannis had left behind.

“The letter is a few days old. So, the news of Dragonstone will be circulating just around the time that your letter is received in the South,” she said to her son.

“Yes. And Robert and Tywin will of course know that they can’t truly trust the lords of the Crownlands, but they’ll be unable to do anything about it until they have proof. They won’t be able to get to Lord’s Velaryon, Celtigar, or Bar Emmon as they’ll be on Dragonstone with their families.” Rhaegar read the letter one last time before burning it with a nearby candle. “The Northern bannermen will be here by the end of the month. Then we will head south.”

“They will take some convincing,” Lyanna said quietly. “The Northern lords, I mean. Besides Dorne, they had the most casualties in the Rebellion, and the North remembers. Although I believe they will have less of a problem with your two wives and more of a problem with who your father was. I hadn’t thought it would be so difficult, until Catelyn pointed it out.” When she saw the others about to protest, she rushed to continue. “She was right in her words against me. The lords will most likely blame me for the war, and you Rhaegar. But above everyone else, they will blame your father. He is the one who murdered their Lord and his heir. They will not want to risk supporting another ruler of the same blood.”

“Then we will have to earn their respect and support,” Elia spoke up. “We will make them understand what happened with you and Rhaegar and we will do whatever else it takes to prove to them that our husband is a worthy King.”

“We have the trade agreements ready as well. And we will commission a new port city, on the western coast of the North. And any prisoners captured in the war will be sent to the wall, as they are becoming increasingly short-handed.” Rhaella noticed that her and Elia’s words improved the others’ moods sightly but not enough to erase their worry. She decided that if she needed to, she would speak to the lords herself and make them understand that Rhaegar was not Aerys reborn. If anyone would know, it would be her.


	22. Elia III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry! Endless apologies, all around! I had school issues to deal with which turned into work issues and an appalling amount of student loans. It's been a stressful few months (months! so sorry!) and I just lost interest in this story. But! I found this chapter that I never posted, and another one after it, so I edited them quickly and then I'm going to read through the whole thing and start writing again. I don't want to start yet because I can't remember everything that was going on in the story, but I will soon!  
> So, don't hate me for being an unreliable author:( I know it's frustrating. One of my all time favorite fics is unfinished and hasn't been updated in four years and I'm still holding out hope for it. Ridiculous, I know. But anyway, here's this chapter, I'll post the next one in an hour or so. Thank you for reading!

The lords of the North had been arriving for days. There were thousands of men camped around Winterfell and none of them truly knew the reasons they were about to go to war. Elia had thought that the lords would be staying inside the keep and had been planning to stay out of sight until they had all arrived, but instead they set up tents outside with their men. It was something no southern lord would do and she respected them for it.

  
Today, Lord Howland Reed was the last to arrive. He had left his men back in the Neck, as did his nearby lords, for it would be tedious to march them up to Winterfell and then back south. Lord Manderly did the same with his men. Anyhow, now that the lords were assembled, a feast was to be held where Lord Eddard would announce his allegiance to House Targaryen.

  
To say the tensions were running high would be an understatement. Lady Catelyn had been running about the castle preparing for the feast, having grudgingly apologized to and accepted the presence of Elia and her family. She still maintained her frosty demeanor around them but she seemed to realize her attitude would change nothing. The children, sensing the atmosphere, had relegated themselves to their rooms, though none of them seemed happy about being indoors. Lord Stark had been visiting his bannermen for days but was now locked in his solar with his brothers, Rhaegar, Oberyn, and Arthur.

  
Rhaella, Lyanna, Ashara, and herself were helping with the preparations until some of the women who had accompanied their lord husbands entered the keep to help Lady Stark. Wanting to keep their presence unknown for a bit longer, the four of them went to their rooms to bathe and dress. It was the first time Elia or Lyanna wore anything formal or of Targaryen colors in years, having stuck with their simple dresses of various colors. But tonight both were in dresses of their married house colors. Lyanna’s red gown had a swirling design stitched in with black and long flowing silk sleeves and a silver belt around her waist. Elia wore red, transparent silks over a black gown that moved fluidly as she walked. Both women had on pendants of a direwolf and a speared sun, respectively, given to them by Rhaegar before leaving Pentos, and thin, silver circlets that belonged to past Targaryen Queens, according to Rhaella.

  
After dressing themselves, the two enlisted Rhaella and Ashara, both dressed in the colors of their own houses, to get the children ready as well. Lyanna had just finished braiding Rhaenys’s hair in a northern style that she had requested when Lady Catelyn came in looking for her son. She seemed harried with baby Arya in her arms and little Sansa clutching her skirts. Lyanna stood and took slow steps toward her good-sister.

  
“We can help get the children ready, Catelyn. I know how busy you are with the feast preparations.” Catelyn looked as if she wanted to reject the offer at first before a look of gratitude appeared on her features.

  
“That would be most appreciated Your Graces, Lady Ashara,” she handed Arya to Elia and shooed Sansa to Ashara. “I set out their clothing last night, Robb’s as well. Though I’m not sure where he is at the moment…”

  
Rhaella interrupted before she could finish, “We shall find him, my lady. He is probably off with my grandsons who also need to get dressed. Go on, finish whatever tasks you were doing, leave the children to us.” The Queen smiled at her before departing the room in search of the little boys who had been causing mischief all over Winterfell for weeks. Lady Catelyn thanked them again before leaving as well. The three remaining women shared surprised looks before dressing the young Stark girls in their dresses of grey and white.   
An hour later the children, both Targaryen and Stark, were dressed and fiddling with their clothes, not used to being so constrained. Lord and Lady Stark came into the nursery to claim their children before heading down to the Great Hall where the northern lords and ladies were already gathering.

  
“Wait until Benjen comes for you. I’m going to explain just enough about all of your survivals to keep them from being shocked and then I will tell of them of my allegiance before you come in,” Ned instructed, a solemn tone to his voice that Elia had become accustomed to when he spoke of such matters. He then left the room, his wife and children following after him.

  
The rest of them waited a bit before they made their way toward the chamber outside the Hall where Benjen would meet them. Rhaegar was at the front, followed by Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell, behind them were Elia and Lyanna, then their children, Daenerys, Rhaella, and Ashara, and bringing up the rear were her brother Oberyn and Lya’s brother Brandon. It was strange to think that for the past five years, all of these people, except for Dany, Jon and Oberyn, were thought to be dead.

  
When they entered the chamber, Benjen was there. He gave them a small nervous smile before speaking.

  
“He’s told them that you all live and even given explanations, but they don’t seem to believe it.” He opened the door to the Hall slightly, looking in as the sound of a hundred shouting men met their ears. “Perhaps they just need proof.” He turned to them, eyebrows raised in question. Rhaegar looked around at them all, smiling reassuringly before nodding at his good-brother.

  
The boisterous Northerners grew silent in waves as the Royal Family stepped into the Great Hall. Rhaegar led the other adults to the Lord's table while Sers Oswell and Arthur situated the children at the smaller one below it. The Kingsguard quickly returned to their King's side as he reached his seat. Elia's body was tense, her hands trembling slightly with nerves. But as she stole glances at her family, she steeled herself and kept her face blank but polite. Beside her, Lyanna did the same and she was grateful. It wouldn't do for the Queens to look rattled.

  
Rhaegar kept himself standing as the family took the same positions they had at their welcoming feast. Ned was standing as well, sharing a meaningful look with his good-brother as the others seated themselves. Elia looked out at the shocked expressions on the rough, northern faces. Some were frozen in disbelief, others were gathering their wits and growing angry at the presence of Targaryens at their Lord's table. The murmurs began but never escalated, forcing Elia to repress a smirk. Even when outraged, the Northerners were too honorable and respectful to be seen as rude to guests of House Stark.

  
"My lords," Ned finally spoke, his voice demanding attention and respect, "I apologize for the shock, but as I said and as you can see, the Targaryens are alive and well. May I introduce King Rhaegar, the First of His Name, his Queens, Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark, the Queen Mother, Rhaella Targaryen and the members of their household, Prince Oberyn Martell, Lady Ashara Dayne, Lord Brandon Stark, and Sers Oswell Whent and Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard."

  
The introduction was met with more silence as eyes darted between Elia, Lyanna and their husband. The lords were a mass of conflicting emotions and anxious movements and Elia was glad that Ned hadn't drawn attention to the children. She wasn't sure how this would go but there were fifteen Stark men whose sole purpose was to get the children to safety should a fight emerge.

  
It seemed neither Lord Stark nor Rhaegar knew what to say exactly, as the gathered lords had yet to voice any opinion. Thankfully, Lord Wyman moved through the crowd to stand in front of the table.

  
"My King, my Queens," he bowed to each of them, including Rhaella, before turning back to his fellow Northmen. "Friends! I know you are all feeling confused and cautious at this revelation. I myself felt the same when I learned of it when the Royal Family arrived in White Harbor a moon's turn ago." At this, many of the Lords began shuffling about in irritation, clearly annoyed at being unaware of their presence in the North for so long. "However, King Rhaegar offered me explanations and gained my respect and loyalty in return. He and Lord Stark have since been organizing this gathering to offer you the same. I implore you, hear them out before making any judgements and remember that Eddard Stark is an honorable man and a proficient Lord and that Rhaegar Targaryen is the man we all once greatly anticipated ascending the Iron Throne."

  
With the end of his speech, the Lord of White Harbor stepped aside as Rhaegar began to explain the events that led to the Rebellion. When he reached the part about Lyanna's disappearance, Brandon stepped in to explain his own story. Many of the Lords looked back and forth between Brandon and his younger brother, occasionally stealing glances at Lyanna as well. Not willing to let her husband and brother take all of the responsibility, Lyanna stood to up to address the men she had grown up with and the men who were once her father's bannermen.

  
"I know that this is a lot to take in. And I understand if this has colored your opinion of me, but please know that Rhaegar is blameless." Elia grasped Rhaegar's arm as he made to interrupt their lover. He glanced at her briefly, his eyes saddened by Lyanna's guilt, but resigned himself to letting his young wife speak in his favor. Elia knew that both her loves would forever blame themselves for the Rebellion, despite her constant words otherwise, but she also knew that it could be used in their favor in this instance.

  
"I never wanted to marry Robert Baratheon. I knew that it was my duty and that generations of highborn girls before me had done the same, but I had always longed for freedom. I knew that, as Robert's wife, I would be nothing but a caged bird. He wanted me as some sort of trophy, playing the perfect wife and giving him children but never being my own person.

  
"I couldn't do it. It was selfish and childish, but I ran anyway. I hadn't intended to go to the Crown Prince but I came across him in the Riverlands just a days ride from Riverrun. I told him of my hatred of Robert and that my Father had moved up my impending wedding due to the scandal at Harrenhall," Lyanna glanced at me with a small smile that I returned. "So he gave me another option. I wrote a letter for Brandon and returned to Riverrun briefly to leave it for him. The next day, I rode for Dragonstone with the prince and his party."

  
The mention of the letter caused more whispering, making Brandon pick up where his sister left off. He explained how he had never received the letter but was told instead by Lord Hoster's ward that Lya was kidnapped by the Prince. Brandon's eyes took on a haunted, deeply remorseful look as he explained his capture and the murder of his father. The Northerners briefly raised their cups in remembrance of Lord Rickard before turning their attention to Rhaegar once more as he continued the tale.

  
Elia lost herself in memories as Rhaegar told of secreting Lyanna to Dorne and returning to King's Landing when he learned of his wife, mother, and children being held hostage by his father. She could still remember the day Aerys burnt the Warden of the North. She had been forced to watch by the King and then sent back to her rooms. She wept for hours that night, fearing for her children and longing for Dorne, where her husband and Lyanna were waiting for them. That was the day she became sure she wouldn't live to see the end of the Rebellion.

  
By the time she gathered herself, Ned was speaking of finding Lyanna and the deception he had been a part of for five years in regards to his sister and nephew. At this, the gathered lords turned to the table where the children sat, oblivious to anything but their own playing and conversations.

  
Elia held her breath as all eyes were on the young ones, Jon in particular, and she knew Rhaegar and Lyanna were just as tense. Astonishingly, many eyes softened as they looked at the little boy they thought to be their Lord's bastard. Clearly they all held more affection for him than Lady Stark ever did. Elia relaxed at this but kept her gaze on the children. Aegon and Jon were huddled close with Robb, the three of them playing with the wooden toys used to distract them. Rhaenys and Dany sat opposite them, on either side of little Sansa, while Old Nan held baby Arya in her arms. Elia couldn’t help but notice the perfect representation of Houses Targaryen, Stark, Tully, and Martell that the children made and hoped it was a good omen to see them all getting along so marvelously. 


	23. Eddard III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this would be up an hour after the last one but there was some strategy stuff in this chapter that made me outline the majority of this story so I wanted to make sure I had everything figured out before posting it:)

"Now that attention has been brought to them, allow me to introduce the children," Ned spoke as his bannermen processed the fact that the boy they knew as Jon Snow was actually a Targaryen prince. "The eldest is Princess Rhaenys, then her brothers Prince Aegon and Prince Jon, and their aunt, Princess Daenerys." The children looked up at their names, noticing for the first time the tension in the room and the eyes on them. Little Daenerys shifted closer to Old Nan while Rhaenys straightened a bit in her seat, casting glances at her little brothers. The two young princes had the same frightened, wide-eyed expression and Ned noticed, for the first time, that they truly did look like brothers. He smiled as his Robb waved cheerfully at his future bannermen, Jon quickly copying him and Aegon following moments later.

  
For the first time all evening, the tension in the room was sufficiently broken by the three young boys as the gathered Northerners laughed with them. Smiling, Ned shared a look with his kingly good-brother, both of them feeling more hope than they had in weeks.

 

 

Later, after the atmosphere had been lightened and the food had been eaten, most of the women and children had retired. Ned was left at the table with the King and Queens, as well as his brothers, Prince Oberyn, and the Kingsguard. The Northern Lords had taken up seats closer to the head table to speak more with he and Rhaegar. None were shocked that Rhaegar intended to reclaim his throne, or that Ned would be fighting beside him.

  
"I know it is a lot to ask, so soon after the rebellion and only hours after discovering my family's survival," Rhaegar addressed them. "But please know, neither Lord Stark or I will force you to fight this war. We have plans in place to insure that the North will hopefully be untouched. If you wish to remain here, neutral, then that is your right. You will not be punished."

  
He and Ned had decided this weeks ago as a token of good will. However, they both knew that there was little chance the Lords would take the out. They were too honorable to go against their Lord. The indignant looks on their faces only proved this and made Ned smile knowingly at them. He noticed Lords Karstark and Umber exchange meaningful looks with Lady Maege Mormont, the three of them seemingly the deciding factors for the others. Finally, after long minutes of whispered conversations, they all turned to face the high table as Lady Maege stood from her seat.

  
"Lord Eddard, we would rather the Others take us than let you go to war without us," her words were met with cheers from her fellows and a proud smile lit Ned's face. She then turned to Rhaegar. "Your Grace, we will of course fight for you. But we do have reservations concerning your marriage and your blood." Rhaegar was nodding before she even finished her sentence.

  
"I know it is…strange. Taking two wives was never something I intended to do. However, I dearly love them both. Elia and Lyanna will always have equal roles at my side and in the Kingdoms. Aegon is the Prince of Dragonstone, my heir, but, once it's rebuilt, Jon will be the Prince of Summerhall. Other than that, all three of my children, as well as any future children, will also be of equal standing, be they half Martell or half Stark." This clearly calmed the Northerners somewhat, as did the smiles on both Queens' faces. "I don't expect you to approve of my marriages, or understand them in any way. Just know that both women are kind, just, and intelligent, and will make great Queens.

  
"Now, in regards to my…ancestry. I don't know how to convince you that I am nothing like my father. His madness only increased with age and was only slightly present when he was young. All I can give you is my vow that I will always keep the realm's needs in mind and do my utmost to return Westeros to it's former prosperity. Only time will give you your reassurances. If I do indeed show signs of becoming my father, then I am commanding you here and now to depose of me and pass the throne to Aegon. But I'm confident that this wont ever be the case."

  
Rhaegar resumed sitting, clasping his wive's hands in each of his own. Ned stared anxiously at his men. It was one thing for them to fight on their side but Rhaegar truly needed the North's support if he was to keep his throne. Hoping that encouragement from him could inspire more loyalty, Ned cleared his throat.

  
“We didn’t fight the rebellion to remove Targaryens from power. We fought for justice. We fought against the man who had been unfairly and cruelly ruling the realm for far too long. Yes, when we believed that the Crown Prince had abducted my sister, we feared his potential rule as well, but now we know the truth. This man was fully prepared to depose of his own father for the sake of the realm. He rescued my sister from what was sure to be a miserable life. And he is even now, doing everything he can to minimize casualties for not only his allies, but his enemies as well. Rhaegar Targaryen is the King Westeros needs, the King that Robert Baratheon will never come close to becoming. I believe he will heal the realm as it has needed to be for generations,” Ned glanced to his left as he said this and saw gratitude and determination in his good-brother’s features. “Before the Rebellion, the Seven Kingdoms longed for Rhaegar to become King. It is time for you all to restore your faith in him, as I have.”

  
The Northern lords sat in a contemplative silence after his words, staring back and forth between the Stark Lord and the Targaryen King, Lord Umber rose from his seat and knelt before Rhaegar, the other Lords following soon after him. Relieved, Ned let out a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding as Rhaegar calmly told the assembled lords to rise. It was silent for a moment before the Greatjon let out a booming laugh, raising his cup in the air, the others following suit.

  
"Long live King Rhaegar!"

 

 

  
The next day, Eddard, Rhaegar, Brandon, Benjen, Oberyn and the Kingsguard meet the Northern Bannermen in the war council room of the Keep. Ned had had it cleaned out days ago knowing his own solar was much to small to fit the rowdy Northmen but not wanting to get in the way by using the Great Hall. The room was large with tapestries depicting maps of each of the Kingdoms, an enormous map of Westeros lay across a large table in the center of the room.

  
The first half hour was spent assigning positions in the Northern army and choosing how many garrisons to remain above the neck.

  
“I’ve already sent commands to the Royal Fleet,” Rhaegar was saying, pointing vaguely at Dragonstone. “Once Dragonstone is completely in control of the Crownland lords, a third of the fleet will be sailing North to guard the shores. I wouldn’t put it past Tywin to to hire Essosi sellswords to attack where he thinks we’re vulnerable.” Rhaegar moved a third of the small ships and arranged them along the North’s eastern coast from the Grey Cliffs to Widow’s Watch. “Lord Manderly, you have 10 warships guarding The Bite, yes?”

  
“Yes, Your Grace. But what of the western shore? Shouldn’t we be concerned about attacks from the Greyjoys or Lannisters?”

  
“The Greyjoy and Lannister fleets are still too weak and broken from their attacks on each other a year ago. We aren’t too concerned. But we will leave larger garrisons at Deepwood Motte, Torrhen’s Square, and Moat Cailin, just in case,” Ned moved more figures to the mentioned keeps.

  
“Yes. Then, when the fleet is a week away, we will move south and set up at Moat Cailin. Hopefully, by this time, Hoster Tully will have decided who to fight for and we will decide whether or not to bypass the Twins.” The lords grimaced at Rhaegar’s words and Ned knew they were dreading Walder Frey just as much as he was. “If we have the support of the Riverlands we will utilize the crossing to get to Riverrun. If not, we can either head down the King’s Road, around the Twins, or we can lay siege to them.”

  
“Then from Riverrun, the armies will split?” Lady Mormont questioned.

  
Rhaegar nodded and moved around the table towards Dorne. “I will lead men to Harrenhall then on to Summerhall where we will meet with the Dornish army.” He looked up at Oberyn, who nodded. “Prince Oberyn, Lady Ashara, and Lord Brandon will be sailing to Dorne with the children in a moon’s turn. There, he will lead the army Prince Doran has been gathering for months. We will take the Stormlands before moving towards the Capitol.

  
“Before I arrive at Summerhall, I will meet with the Tyrells at Bitterbridge. The meeting is really just a formality as they have already sworn fealty to me. So, the armies of the Reach will be joining those of the North in laying siege to Casterly Rock.” His words were met with shouts of excitement causing Rhaegar to chuckle slightly. “Yes, yes. I know everyone hates the Lannisters. And it shouldn’t take too long to capture the castle as Tywin will have a large portion of his army in King’s Landing by then. But you will insure no relieving armies can be made and then leave a large garrison behind before marching towards King’s Landing once I’ve given the command.”

  
Looking over the map and their plans, Ned concluded that the campaign shouldn’t take more than two years and said so to Rhaegar.

  
The King nodded before looking at each of the men gathered around him. “Let’s aim for a year. The shorter the war, the less casualties. And I don’t know about you my lords, but I would much rather spend my time with my family than in battle.”


	24. Jaime I

Jaime Lannister stood against the wall of the small council chamber, vaguely amused at the chaos around him. The spider had just handed the King a letter of declaration from Rhaegar Targaryen and all of the seven hells had broken loose.

  
Robert was screaming at anyone who looked at him and cursing “the dragon scum” every few moments. Jon Arryn was trying to calm him at first but had since given up in favor of staring into nothing, a frown on his lined face. His father and Uncle Kevan were whispering to one another as Littlefinger listened in on them.

  
And Cersei, his beautiful twin, was silently raging. Her green eyes flashing as she clenched her fists around her wine cup. Jaime wasn’t sure if she was angry that her role as Queen could be taken or at the fact that it could be taken by Lyanna Stark. Although her husband refused to believe that his beloved was alive, let alone married to Rhaegar Targaryen.

  
“LIES! The bastard! How dare h-“

  
Jaime drowned out the roaring of the King and instead turned his attention to Ser Barristan. The man was wearing a pained frown, glancing at Robert every once in a while before turning his eyes to the floor. Jaime understood. They were both sworn to the Targaryens, but they had made new vows. Of course, Jaime didn’t give a damn about Robert. But he had promised his twin to always remain at her side, no matter how keenly he felt the pull to go to his rightful King.

  
Kingslayer, the realm called him. Oathbreaker. And he had indeed broken his oath to protect Aerys, but it had to be done. He has always hoped that helping Princess Elia and Princess Rhaenys made up for his crime slightly and he longed to know if they were still safe. Were they with Rhaegar and Lyanna? Or in Essos? Had they lived long enough to even escape to the Free Cities? He wishes he could have done more, for them and for Queen Rhaella, who he had always admired.

  
He remembers the look on Robert’s face when they brought in the bodies of the supposed prince and princesses. He wanted nothing more than to become a Kingslayer twice over and leave King’s Landing to find his charges. But alas, his sister was to become Queen and he couldn’t leave her at the mercy of the new, blood thirsty King. So he swore a new vow and pushed away the desire to search for the lost Targaryens.

  
Now though, they were back, and he had to choose. The right choice would be to flee, find the Dragon King and beg forgiveness. But the easy choice, the one he wanted to make, was Cersei. Stay and guard her and her children, his daughter.

  
Jaime looked up when the King’s shouts lessened and the assembled began to plan the defense of King’s Landing. He vaguely heard his father make plans to send him to Casterly Rock to lead the armies being raised before his eyes locked on identical green ones.

  
“I must check on the children,” Cersei said as she rose from her seat to general murmurs of acknowledgment. “Ser Jaime, escort me.” Jaime followed her silently out the door and to her rooms. The second the door closed, she raged around the room, cursing Lyanna Stark as her husband had been cursing Rhaegar Targaryen. Jaime stood, mesmerized by her beauty but cautious of the mad glint in her eyes. Finally she paused in her rants and Jaime walked forward to grasp her shoulders.

  
“Enough,” he whispered. “There will be war, Cersei. And if Robert finds Lyanna Stark, who is to say he won’t bring her here to marry her himself?” Cersei’s body shook in rage and opened her mouth to snap something at him but he cut her off with a kiss. “We should leave. We’ll take the children and leave for Essos before any harm can come to you.” She pulled out of his grip.

  
“I am the Queen!” She stomped over and poured a generous cup of wine, taking a long drink before turning back to him. “This could work in our favor, brother. We could convince Father to side with Rhaegar, and we can destroy Robert from here in the capitol. When he arrives in King’s Landing, he will see it as a peace offering and pardon Father for the Rebellion.” She walked towards the window, gazing at the water of the sea as Jaime stood behind her, eyes wide in disbelief.

  
“Cersei…we would all be killed!”

  
She turned to him, a seductive grin on her plush lips. “No. Once Rhaegar sees me, and knows I still hold deep affection for him, he will take me as his Queen. Little Lyanna Stark cannot compare to me.” She moved towards him, pressing her body into his. “Can she?” She set her wine down before grasping his face between her hands. “Once I am Rhaegar’s Queen, I will have him pardon our family. I will give Rhaegar beautiful silver-haired princes and princesses. I will assure him that neither of my children have Baratheon blood and he will allow Joff and Myrcella to remain with us here in the Red Keep.” Jaime pulled out of her grasp, backing away.

  
His blood boiled at the dreamy look upon his love’s face. After all of these years, she still longed for Rhaegar Targaryen. “Joffrey is a Baratheon.” Jaime knew this to be true. He had been sent to Casterly Rock after the Rebellion before Robert had decided to reinstate him as Kingsguard, and when he returned to the capitol, Cersei was heavily pregnant with the Crown Prince.

  
His sister laughed a bit maniacally. “He isn’t. After my oaf of a husband whispered that Stark whore’s name on our wedding night, I swore to never allow a child of his seed grow inside me.”

  
Jaime felt as if she had slapped him. He hated that his sister had another man’s child but knew it would happen when she became Queen. He knew he would have to compete with King Robert for a place in her bed, but he didn’t know he was competing with another, nameless man. “Who?” he whispered, brokenly.

  
“A Lannister guard,” she shrugged. “I’m not sure which one. But do not worry dearest Jaime, Myrcella is yours.” Jaime just shook his head at her, unable to comprehend the vicious woman before him. He had worshipped her from the moment they were born. Abided by her every command and swore to never love another. And now, he was discovering that the woman he loved more than was healthy, was a cruel, selfish woman. He took one last glance at her before fleeing her rooms. Striding down the halls towards White Sword Tower, Jaime came to the realization that despite the utter agony he was experiencing at Cersei’s actions, he needed this. He needed to be so thoroughly broken by her in order to make the right choice.

 

 

An hour later, he was packing what little belongings he had when Ser Barristan entered his room. Jaime froze, tensing at the old knight’s confused gaze.

  
“Jaime…I’ve come to tell you that your father requests you return to Casterly Rock as soon as possible to lead the Lannister armies. We’ve just received a raven, Dragonstone has been taken by the Crownlords. You are relieved of your Kingsguard duties for now.” Jaime nodded slowly, hoping his Lord Commander wouldn’t question his actions. “Ser Jaime? Were you going somewhere?”

  
Jaime looked up and locked his gaze with Barristan’s. “I don’t belong here. Not with this King.” The older man tensed at these words before disappearing into his own room. Confused, Jaime followed after him and smirked at what he saw. Barristan the Bold was throwing his golden armor to the ground, and gathering his own belongs.

  
“We leave at nightfall.”


	25. Rhaenys I

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen knew that war was coming. She wasn’t fully aware of what that entailed but she did know that it was making her family very tense. The adults were always locked away in the room with he maps, along with the loud northerners. Rhaenys tried to sneak in to see what they were up to but was shooed away by Old Nan numerous times. So instead, she spent her time with Dany, Robb, and her brothers. Occasionally, little Sansa would join them but Lady Stark preferred that she didn’t.

  
Rhaenys was currently dangling her feet in the pool of the godswood, Dany sitting beside her chattering away about the most recent story Old Nan told them. Something about a giant named Macomber. Jon, Aegon and Robb were playing at jousting, each with a stick in there hands, giggling when they managed to hit each other rather than themselves, which was the norm.

  
She frowned in concern when Jon tripped over a large rock, prepared to go and check on him, but then Aegon was there helping him to his feet. Rhaenys smiled happily. Having little brothers could be extremely annoying but she loved them anyway and wouldn’t trade them for anything. She always felt like something was missing when it was just her and Mother. There was an emptiness in her heart and judging by the sadness in her eyes, Rhaenys supposed Mother felt it too. But then they found Lya the emptiness faded a bit. Then a bit more when they found Father, Dany, and Grandmother and again with Aegon. Finally, when they arrived here in Winterfell and found Jon, everything felt complete. Father was grinning more than often than ever before, Mother and Lya were always laughing together and watching her and her brothers with fond looks. And watching over her little brothers was one of her new favorite activities. Having a family was truly lovely.

  
“Mother!”

  
Rhaenys looked up at Jon’s happy exclamation, giggling as he ran to her, Aegon and Robb following after him, demanding her attention as well. Rhaenys and Dany smiled brightly when Lya looked over to them.

  
“Hello, my darlings!” She moved to sit between them after thoroughly greeting the wild little boys. Wrapping an arm around each of the girls, she placed her own bare feet in the pool before them. “I used to swim in this all day long when I was a girl.” Rhaenys’ eyes widened at that.

  
“We can swim in there?! Can we now?” She looked up at the the amused silver eyes, beaming. Lya laughed slightly and Rhaenys basked in the sound. She loved Lya’s loud, free laugh, it always made her feel safe and warm.

  
“Not today sweetling, your mother and father will be here soon. We have something to discuss with you all. That reminds me,” she turned back to the boys. “Robb!” The boys halted their playing and ran towards the pool, Robb looking questioningly at his aunt. “Your father was looking for you, he and Uncle Benjen are in the training yard I believe.”   
“Oh. Am I in trouble?” He exchanged glances with his companions before looking back to Lya who raised a brow at the boys.

  
“I don’t believe so. Why? Have you boys done something that will get you into trouble?” Immediately three heads shook, denials flying from the boys’ mouths. Lya laughed again and sent Robb on his way before gesturing the two remaining to sit around the pool.

  
Rhaenys rested her head on Lya’s should as her brothers splashed their own feet into the water, being careful not to splash the girls. It wasn’t a few minutes later when Mother and Father walked into the clearing, smiles lighting their faces as they looked around at the assembled group. Aegon patted the ground on either to his left and Father laughed before taking a seat while Mother sat next to Jon.

  
It was silent for a time before Father cleared his throat to gain their attention.

  
“I’m sure you have all noticed the increasing activity around Winterfell,” he began then continued after they all nodded. “Soon, there will be war. Your uncles and I will be leaving to fight, and your mothers are coming with us.”

  
Rhaenys saw the confusion on her brothers’ and aunt’s faces so she decided to ask the question. “Where will we be going? You aren’t sending us back to Pentos?” She asked, horrified. She would rather stay anywhere than with her cruel uncle. Mother laughed slightly at that.

  
“No, Rhae, you aren’t returning to Pentos. The four of you will be traveling to Dorne with your Uncles Oberyn and Brandon, and perhaps Ashara as well.” Oh. Well that was better then, she supposed. Except…

  
“Why can’t we stay here in Winterfell? It hasn’t snowed yet and I dearly want to see snow!” This time it was Lya who laughed before answering.

  
“You will, someday, but for now Dorne is much safer for the four of you. And you will get to meet your Uncle Doran and your cousin Arianne.”

  
Rhaenys nodded thoughtfully at this. She has always wanted to see Dorne, after all. She noticed Jon shift out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see him chewing his bottom lip before quietly asking, “Is Robb coming, too?” Now Rhaenys was chewing her lip, for surely Robb would remain here with his family. But he and Jon were so attached, Aegon becoming so as well. Sure enough, when she looked at her other brother he was gazing at Father hopefully.

  
“No, love, Robb cannot come with you,” Father said gently as Mother wrapped an arm around Jon’s little shoulders and ran her fingers through his midnight curls.

  
“Oh,” came the sad whisper. Rhaenys frowned up at Lya, hoping she could do something about Jon’s sadness. But Lya’s eyes began to water as Jon asked “When are we coming back home?”

  
“Jon, sweetling, we won’t be coming back to Winterfell for a long time,” Lya murmured. This caused his lips to tremble and his big dark eyes filled with tears. Mother pulled him onto her lap before speaking as Lya made her way towards them and began rubbing Jon’s back soothingly.

  
“It’s not forever, little one, we will visit,” Mother assured him. “And I’m sure Rhaenys will help you write letters to Robb often.” Rhaenys nodded rapidly when he looked up at her hopefully.

  
“And to Sansa and Arya?” He questioned her, making her smile slightly.

  
“I’m not sure Arya will understand right away but yes, we will write to them as well.”

  
Aegon curled up to Mother and Jon, grasping their brother’s hand tightly in his own little one. “We’ll have lots of fun in Dorne, Jon, promise. And we can go to the Water Gardens! Remember, Uncle Oberyn said you can swim there, just like here in the godswood!”

  
Father was nodding by the end of Aegon’s words, then he reached out to turn Jon’s face towards him. “I know Winterfell is your home and it can be a little terrifying to leave, but I’m sure you will make a new home with new memories. It doesn’t mean you have to forget your old one, though. Your brother and sister and Dany will be with you and you will see Robb again.”

  
“Do you promise, Papa?”

  
“Yes. I promise.”

 

 

The next week, Father, Mother, and Lya spent nearly all their time with the children, including Robb. Uncle Ned and Uncle Ben, as she’d taken to calling them, often joined them as well. The went to Winterstown and went on rides through the wolfs wood and around Winterfell. And Lya even took them swimming in the godswood pools.

  
But when the day of their departure arrived, Rhaenys, Dany, Jon, and Aegon were in tears as their family said their goodbyes. Rhaenys and Dany were being held tightly by Grandmother while Mother, Father, and Lya clung to Jon and Aegon before they all switched. Robb and Sansa came over and hugged them all as well, tears welling in Robb’s bright blue eyes.

  
Eventually, they had to leave. Last minute kisses and embraces were shared as Mother and Lya put her brothers in the wheelhouse and Grandmother clutched Dany to her one last time before doing the same. Rhaenys was about to follow when she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Father smiling gently at her. He lifted her into his arms despite her being much too big for such behavior.

  
“You’re going to love Dorne, little Princess,” he whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  
“I know, Papa.”

  
“Can you do something for me?” He asked, waiting for her nod before continuing. “Look after Dany and your brothers? Especially Jon. I believe he’s still getting accustomed things and despite the fact that he’ll be surrounded by family, he’s leaving everything and everyone he’s ever known.”

  
“I promise, I will,” she smiled, hugging him one last time as he placed her in the wheelhouse, Lya and Mother giving her one last kiss on the cheek.

  
She sat on the soft cushions, pulling Jon and Aegon to her as Ashara climbed in, sitting on the seat opposite them. Dany was waving out the carriage window, tears streaming down her face but still smiling brightly before going to sit next to Ashara.

  
Ashara gazed at them all lovingly before leaning out the window, probably to speak to Uncle Oberyn or Uncle Brandon. Moments later, Rhaenys felt Jon burrow into her as the carriage began to move. 


	26. Rhaegar IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm awful, I know. Work has been exhausting lately:( But! I'm posting another one right after this one to apologize! And also, this one is a bit smutty, only a little though.

The days following the children’s departure were quiet and empty. Rhaegar threw himself into planning the campaign, trying not to think about the little amount of time he actually got to spend with his children so soon after finding them. He knew his wives were feeling utter despair as well and were distracting themselves by getting to know the Northern bannermen and their wives.

  
He was currently alone in the war room, it being far too early for the others to arrive just yet. He was trying to concentrate on supply numbers but kept being brought back to the tearful faces of his children. Thankfully, a knock on the open door brought him out of his misery. Looking up, he smiled slightly at Ned. The man seemed just as solemn as Rhaegar himself, having said goodbye to the little boy he raised as his son and soon leaving his wife and children as well.

  
Ned entered the room and took a seat opposite Rhaegar, handing him a raven’s scroll.   
“This just arrived.”

  
Rhaegar took the scroll, unrolling it quickly and letting his eyes skim over the short message from the spider. Setting it down, he smiles at Ned.

  
“Dragonstone is ours and the fleet has separated. Let us go alert your bannermen. We march south in a week, Lord Stark.”

 

 

The rest of the week was a flurry of activity as final preparations were made before the army moved south. Varys had sent word that Robert had given Stannis command of the Stormlands army and Jon Arryn had called his banners at Robert’s request but truly had no intention of utilizing the Vale armies. Meanwhile, Tywin Lannister had sent his brother Kevan to Casterly Rock to dispatch the Lannister troops as Ser Jaime had disappeared with Ser Barristan a fortnight ago.

  
Rhaegar found this particular bit of information the most intriguing. Varys believed the two Kingsguard were heading north to find him and Rhaegar hoped this to be true. He needed to fill his guard and despite the past 6 years, he trusted both men to protect his family. Especially after Elia’s tale of escaping the Red Keep with Ser Jaime’s help. He knew Arthur and Oswell were not so keen on their former sworn brothers, but they would deal in time.

 

A feast was held on their final night in Winterfell and Rhaegar gladly soaked up the atmosphere. The Northerners were a rowdy bunch and it provided a good distraction from thoughts of the coming war.

  
He and Ned were listening to Greatjon Umber’s exaggerated tale of bear-wrestling when a sudden cheer went up around the hall. Looking up, he laughed loudly at the scene before him. Benjen, partnered with Elia, and Lyanna, partnered with Arthur, were attempting to teach the two Dornish natives how to dance in a Northern style. It involved a lot of stomping and jumping and wild twirls. Neither Elia nor Arthur seemed to be able to grasp it though, causing all four to laugh brightly while still making a valiant effort. The gathered Northerners formed a circle around the Queens and their dance partners, clapping along to the bawdy tune and laughing happily.

  
Gazing at his wives, Rhaegar was sure they never looked more beautiful. Both were grinning widely, cheeks flushed and hair flying around them, eyes sparkling whenever they met mid-twirl.

  
As hour became late, his desire for them grew as he watched Elia instruct Lyanna in a Dornish dance, hips swaying and hands fluttering. Catching Elia’s eye, he smiled knowingly at her smirk and felt his breath hitch as she clasped Lyanna’s hand and discreetly pulled her out of the hall. Standing almost too abruptly, he wished the remaining guests a good night and followed after his wives to his rooms.

  
By the time he opened the door, his heart was racing in anticipation and then it stopped altogether as he shut the door, looking towards the bed. Both women were stripped of all their clothing and laying so closely entwined he could barely tell one from the other. Their hands were gliding softly over hips and sides and breasts and shoulders. Lyanna was latched onto Elia’s neck, causing the older woman to arch her back, gasping.

  
Rhaegar divested himself of his own clothes before crawling onto the bed and immediately dove between Elia’s legs.

  
“Rhaegar!”

  
He chuckled against her lower lips at her shout and doubled his efforts. He and Lyanna spent ages worshipping every inch of Elia’s bronze skin before he pulled her on top of him, guiding his cock into her as she straddled his hips. She moved above him, slowly at first before increasing her pace. Lyanna sat next to them, showering them both with hungry kisses and electric touches.

  
Keeping one hand at Elia’s waist, Rhaegar brought his other between Lyanna’s legs as she molded her mouth against his. The three of them finished minutes later, sprawling across each other, breathing harshly and slowing drifting off to sleep.

  
The rest of the evening continued the same way. They would sleep for a short while before one would wake and use gentle kisses and touches to rouse the other two.

 

 

The three of them woke early the next morning, bathing and dressing quickly before heading to the Great Hall to break their fast with the others. The air was rife with anticipation and impatience as the meal moved along quickly.

  
Rhaegar helped his wives and mother onto their horses as Ned said his goodbyes to his own wife and children. He had offered a wheelhouse but all three women refused, not wanting to appear weak to the Northerners around them. Once everyone was mounted and ready, Rhaegar and Ned led the party out of the courtyard and through the surrounding armies, collecting them on the way. Taking a deep breath of the fresh Northern air, Rhaegar felt determination fill him as he marched off to reclaim his birthright.

 

 

The journey south was enlightening for Rhaegar, to say the least. He always knew that the culture of the North was completely different to that of the south but had never truly considered it. The North was wild, free in a way that the rest of the kingdoms could never be, to bound to their ideals of propriety as they were. Dorne was perhaps just as free but in different ways. Where the North was conservative and reserved, Dorne was open and eccentric.

  
The Northerners were a generous, honorable sort. The highborn didn’t look down on the lowborn, but aided them to the best of their abilities. And they weren’t all squabbling for power and titles and wealth. The more he witnessed, the more respect Rhaegar had for his wife’s homeland. And it was giving him ideas for how to reward the men and the region that would be his staunchest ally in the coming war.


	27. Oberyn II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's another new chapter before this, just in case you only noticed it was updated and went to the most recent chapter. Also, I was confusing myself with my deviated timeline so if any of you have questions, ask me. Or I can post like a list of when characters were born and whatever else. Some characters I made quite a bit older/younger and some are around the same as canon.

“Feels wonderful to be going home, doesn’t it?”

  
Oberyn startled slightly as Ashara came to stand next to him, leaning against the side of their ship as he was.

  
“It does. But you would know, wouldn’t you?” They had sailed on an unmarked ship from the western shores of the North all the way to Starfall, where they rested for a week’s time. Ashara’s eldest brother Alec and younger sister Allyria greeted them with surprise and tears, having received a letter from Doran saying they should expect guests, but not who the guests were.

  
“Hmm,” she acknowledge, a content smile gracing her face. Oberyn briefly wondered why she hadn’t stayed with her siblings but it was only a passing thought. Ashara practically raised Aegon and was growing closer to the other royal children as well. Not to mention, she and Elia grew up together and it would be near impossible to leave her after so long thinking her dead.

  
Oberyn remembered always trailing after his sister and Ashara in the Water Gardens, being mothered and doted upon by both of them. He wasn’t in the least surprised when Ashara went to King’s Landing to become Elia’s handmaiden and was sure she would return to the capitol with them once the war was won.

  
A loud squeal broke the silence the two had fallen into and Oberyn turned to see little Daenerys running across the deck followed by Jon, then Aegon and finally Rhaenys, looking exasperated as she called for them all to slow down. Ashara laughed lightly next to him.

  
“Rhae looks so like her mother, trailing after her little brothers and trying to keep them out of trouble. It reminds me of you and Elia.” Oberyn nodded, a nostalgic smile on his usually smirking lips. The children were wreaking havoc but their happy laughter caused reluctant grins to appear on the faces of the stressed crew members. He noticed Brandon Stark come down the stairs from the upper deck, letting out a loud guffaw as the racing children nearly tipped him over. He made his way across the ship, coming to stand next to Ashara who leaned into his side.

  
“It’s good we’ll be docking by dusk, I think the children are getting restless,” he commented. “At least Jon seems to be over his melancholy.”

  
Oberyn nodded absently. He felt for the boy, truly. It must be very difficult for such a young child to discover everything he knew about his family was false. And Jon seemed to have inherited his father’s solemnity, making his dejected mood even more pronounced. Watching the boy now, Oberyn noticed that he had indeed become happier over the past few days.

  
When they had first arrived in Winterfell, Oberyn wasn’t sure how to feel about the Starks, still not completely certain that Lyanna wasn’t trying to usurp Elia’s place. He watched them closely, his sister, her husband, and Lyanna Stark. He worried that may seem little Jon as Rhaegar’s heir, rather than Aegon. But he had nothing to fear. Elia loved just as deeply as her husband and the feeling was mutual. And the children saw both Elia and Lyanna as their mothers. His sister doted on Jon just as Lyanna doted on Aegon and Rhaenys.

  
Oberyn had relaxed significantly after coming to these conclusions. It helped that he got along tremendously with Lyanna and had begun to consider Jon to be just as much his nephew as Aegon. All he wanted was his sister’s happiness. Well, that and for Doran to stop pressuring him to marry.

* * *

 

Their party was met at the docks by twenty Dornish guards and an open-topped wheelhouse for the children to ride in. Oberyn grabbed his nephews, making them squeal as he threw them over his shoulders. Bringing them to the carriage, he tossed them in and they scrambled around until both of them were leaning nearly all the way out of the windows. Rhaenys climbed in after them and grasped the back of their tunics, pulling them back in slightly as Dany followed after her.

  
“So young ones, are you ready to begin your adventures in Dorne?” Oberyn asked them from his atop his sand steed. His question was met with loud, excited cheers from the children.Brandon laughed as he helped Ashara onto her mount before ascending his own.

  
The three of them rode at an easy pace alongside the wheelhouse, guards surrounding them loosely as the common folk waved at their returned-from-exile prince and stared in shock at Ashara. Oberyn laughed loudly at some of the gaping expressions of disbelief.

  
When they reached the gates of Sunspear, servants met them and gathered their things while Doran’s steward led them into the main hall where his brother was holding court with the Dornish high lords.

  
It was the first time he had seen his elder brother in almost three years and Oberyn had a strong desire to forget propriety, march up to the dias, and embrace him. Instead, he slid his gaze to Doran’s right, where his wife Mellario sat, a welcoming smile on her beautiful face as she held Oberyn’s niece, Arianne in her lap.

  
Oberyn lead the group to the center of the room, and bowed deeply before the ruling Prince of Dorne knowing the others were following his example.

  
“Prince Oberyn,” Doran began, a happy smile on his usually solemn face. “It has been nearly three long years, brother. And you return to us with important guests, I dare say.”

  
“I do, my Prince.” Oberyn turned to his party behind him to make introductions. He gestured to Brandon and Ashara first, a smirk on his face, anticipating everyone’s reactions. “My lords and ladies, let me introduce the long-thought dead Lord Brandon Stark of Winterfell and Lady Ashara Dayne of Starfall.” The whispers erupted immediately before turning into shouts of excitement and greetings for the famed Dornish beauty. “And let us not forget,” he continued, going to stand behind the children. “Princess Rhaenys, her brothers Prince Aegon and Prince Jon, and their aunt, Princess Daenerys, all of House Targaryen.”

  
There hall was utterly silent as eyes roved over the royal children and darted to Doran and Oberyn repeatedly. Taking the silence as his cue to speak, Doran stood.

  
“My lords, my ladies, what my brother says is the truth. You have all received or heard of King Rhaegar’s declaration by now so you know of his and Queen Lyanna’s survival. But what has been kept from the rest of the realm is the lives of Rhaegar’s children, his mother, Queen Rhaella, and his other wife, my sister, Queen Elia.” Doran allowed a few moments for his audience to process before he spoke the words that would propel them into war once again. “Before you all, the people of Dorne, I hereby pledge my full support to King Rhaegar Targaryen.”

* * *

 

  
Later, after Brandon, Ashara, and the children have been shown to there rooms, Oberyn sits in the Prince’s Solar with his brother. Doran, of course, has all of the same concerns as he did regarding their sister’s marriage so Oberyn assures him of her happiness before the pair sink into a comfortable silence.

  
Eventually, Doran clears his throat. When Oberyn looks up at him, he sees the the facial expression that usually means his elder brother is about to reprimand him for something. Sighing, Oberyn turns his body, giving Doran his full attention with raised, questioning eyebrows.

  
“A woman arrived in Sunspear around a fortnight ago, looking for you,” he began. Upon seeing Oberyn’s smirking face, he quickly continued. “A septa, to be precise. Septa Mara of Oldtown.”

  
“Yes, Mara. What a lovely girl. Very beautiful, but not very faithful to her vows,” Oberyn recalled as an image of the woman came to mind. He met her while studying in Oldtown, shortly before Doran sent him to Essos. He knew the girl had taken a vow of celibacy, but he simply couldn’t help himself once he caught sight of her pretty blonde hair and big blue eyes. It wasn’t like she was difficult to convince, anyhow. A smirk, a couple of winks, and a few less than appropriate suggestions, and she was willingly following him to bed for weeks. Shaking his head slightly, Oberyn pulled himself from his memories. “Is she still here, by chance?”

  
“She isn’t. But her daughter, Tyene, is. She’s seen two name days, precious thing, she is. Well on her way to becoming even more beautiful than her mother. Same blonde hair and blue eyes, but with darker skin.” By the time Doran finished speaking, Oberyn’s jaw had dropped a bit.

  
This child, Tyene, wouldn’t be his first. He knew he had gotten a child on a whore when he fostered in Sandstone, but he had never met the girl. He had been only four an ten at the time and had no interest in meeting a child he wasn’t even certain was his. But this was different. He was nearing nine and ten, a man grown. He had seen the world and was about to go to war. Watching Elia dote on Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon made him realize that he would indeed want children someday, he just didn’t think it would be so soon. But alas, Mara had delivered Tyene directly to him in Sunspear so he would do his utmost to be a good father to her.

  
“Oberyn,” Doran interrupted his thoughts. “Whether or not you wish to care for her, she will stay with us. She is half Martell, after all. And Septa Mara no longer wants to care for her as she will be renewing her vows to the faith.”

  
“She is my daughter, of course she is staying.” With that, he strode from the room in search of his child.

* * *

 

She was beautiful, his Tyene. All rosy cheeks and happy smiles. Oberyn had spent the last few days bonding with his daughter and already loved her more than he thought possible. They, along with the rest of the family, had retired to the Water Gardens the day previous and all of the children had been splashing about in the sea since day break.

  
There was always something special about the Gardens. It made it seem as if you were in a separate world, one untouched by politics and the coming war. Oberyn reveled in the feeling as he looked around at his family. Tyene was being cooed over by Rhaenys while Daenerys braided her hair in a northern fashion she had learned from Lyanna. All three girls were sitting along the tide, squealing when the water lapped at their feet. Mellario and Ashara could be heard laughing from their places further up the beach, reclined on the sand chairs. Brandon and Doran were lightly sparring as Aegon looked on in awe, clearly trying to memorize their techniques. Further away, but still well within sight, Jon and Arianne were crouched next to a tide pool, giggling excitedly about the shells collected and the sea creatures they spotted. Oberyn smiled, amused as he watch the two move on to the next pool, hand-in-hand and looking completely adorable.

  
He lived for moments such as these, basking in the happiness of his family. Oberyn knew these moments would be less frequent once the war began. Even as he stood watching his daughter giggle with the Rhae and Dany, the Dornish army was stealthily moving about. Garrisons were being stationed at the borders while the main hosts were heading North East to await further instruction and in less than a fortnight, Brandon, Oberyn, and Doran would be joining them.


	28. Brandon III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry! And an infinite amount of apologies. I know I'm horrible, I just kind of lost all interest in this story? And my pairing ideas changed? As did my plans for characters? So yes, those are my flimsy excuses. Well, those and I have the attention span of a puppy and like zero work ethic when it comes to writing. But! I now have a few chapters done so I'm going to post those today and try and respond to some comments as well. Sorry again!

Brandon lay tangled up in sheets, panting and sweating as the Dornish morning rays filtered through from the terrace. Rolling his head slightly to his left, he smirked as he noticed Ashara in a similar state. He moved to lay on his side and wrapped an arm around her naked torso, placing teasing kisses to her flushed chest before looking up into her eyes.

  
She was so utterly beautiful, always, but especially like this. Her lips were swollen from kisses, hair a mess from his fingers winding through it, a small satisfied smirk on her mouth and her haunting violet eyes sparkling happily. He would be leaving her in two days time and the thought made him ache. That was probably why the next words came flying out of his mouth without his permission.

  
“We should get married.”

  
He watched her eyes widen comically and felt his own do the same. He hadn’t meant to say that at all. But…he did mean the words. He wanted to marry her more than anything. So he went with it.

  
“Marry me Ashara, now, today. I love you and I know you love me and in two days I’ll be leaving you for months. I want to be able to come back to my wife at the end of this war.” He noticed her breath hitch at the words and knew he had her. He began smiling as she did, her head nodding slightly before she lunged towards him, kissing her answer.

 

* * *

 

  
They were married the next day in the small sept at the Water Gardens. He would have preferred a godswood and a heart tree but it didn’t truly matter. All he really needed was his bride. She wore pale, lilac silks and he wore a loose grey tunic and a light cloak to place upon her shoulders. The whole affair was quick and simple and completely perfect.

  
Afterward, a feast was held and the night was spent dancing and celebrating. It was a special occasion both because of the wedding and as a farewell to the men who would soon be going to war. Brandon spent the evening twirling around the dance floor with his wife and the other ladies. He also spent a fair bit of time dancing with the princesses Rhaenys, Daenerys, and Arianne, spinning them and tossing them into the air to hear their giggles.

  
Holding Ashara in his arms in a final dance of the evening, he couldn’t help but think that it had been the greatest day of his life.

 

* * *

 

  
Two weeks later saw Brandon ready to march west with an ever-growing Dornish army. Leaving his new wife was nearly impossible and he had half a mind to beg her to come with him. But he knew she belonged in Dorne with the children.

  
Saying goodbye to the children was nearly as difficult. He had grown quite attached the princes and princesses in the past months. And he felt awful leaving Jon, worried that the boy would feel abandoned after all the changes he had gone through recently. But he needed have fretted about it. Jon was perfectly content in Dorne, splashing about in the sea, playing in the sand, and racing through the keep with his brother and the princesses, Arianne and Daenerys.

  
“He will be perfectly alright, husband. Children are very resilient, you know,” Ashara spoke to him reassuringly as they watched the younger children make their way back into the palace after saying goodbye.

  
“Of course he will, Uncle!” Rhaenys agreed, wandering over to them with her uncles, Doran and Oberyn, trailing behind. “I promised Father that I would look after Jon, as well as Aegon and Dany.” She beamed up at him as he knelt to kiss her on the forehead. Rhaenys glanced behind her to the two Dornish princes as she said her next words confidently, “I promise to watch over Arianne, Tyene, and baby Quentyn as well, Uncles.” With that, she took Tyene from Oberyn’s reluctant arms, made them all swear to return home soon, and marched back inside.

  
“She will surely be ruling Dorne by the time we return,” Doran joked as he led Oberyn toward their horses. Brandon laughed lightly, feeling much better after Rhaenys’ words. Turning to his new wife and kissing her thoroughly, Brandon murmured an “I love you” but refused to voice any sort of goodbye. He looked into her tearful violet eyes once more before turning away and joining the departing army.

 

* * *

 

   
They arrived in Hellholt three days later with 11,000 spears and set up camp. They would remain here until they received word from Rhaegar telling them to march on to Summerhall where they would meet the King’s army. They plan to head north through the Prince’s Pass in the mountains. After that would be the Dornish Marches, where there only obstacles in reaching Summerhall would be Nightsong and Blackhaven, both sworn to Storm’s End. Hopefully, their presence will draw the majority of the Stormlords to the ruined Targaryen keep and they can defeat them there before moving on to Storm’s End where Stannis Baratheon was commanding the armies. Until Rhaegar gave the order though, they were to be guests of Lord Harmon Uller.

  
Lord Harmon was a large, stern man and reminded Brandon a great deal of his father, Lord Rickard. He was very respected in Dorne and had a keen eye for strategy, so it made sense when Doran gave him control of a large portion of the army. Lord Harmon would remain behind at first and wait for the remainder of the Dornish armies to reach Hellholt. Once another 7,000 men arrived, he would lead them north to Summerhall. The Martell brothers clearly admired the man which was probably the reason why Oberyn hadn’t made a move towards the lord’s natural daughter and heir, Ellaria Sand.

  
Ellaria was a beautiful woman, only a year younger than Oberyn at just seventeen. She had wild black curls, light bronze skin and dark, mischievous eyes. She had the attention of many of the men but she seemed to have her eye on Oberyn in particular. Brandon found it endlessly entertaining to watch her torture and tease him while the young prince used every ounce of his will power to keep away from her. The little dance they were engaging in went on for nearly a fortnight before Brandon walked into the stables one afternoon to find Oberyn fucking the woman against a wall.

  
After that, the two were rarely seen apart, much to Prince Doran’s consternation. It was well known throughout Dorne that the ruling prince was ever imploring his younger brother to marry and produce trueborn heirs. Though he held nothing but love for Oberyn’s bastard daughter, Doran feared a lack of Martells. However, it took almost no time at all for Doran to realize the maturing influence that Ellaria had on her new lover and he was beyond grateful. It was clear to anyone that Oberyn was completely besotted by her, even Lord Harmon. Though Brandon did see the large man whispering fiercely to Oberyn one evening, making the younger man pale a bit at whatever he was saying.

  
It was while they were at Hellholt that Brandon received a raven from Ashara, informing him that she had not bled since before they even reached Sunspear. His wife apologized for not telling him sooner, but she had wanted to be certain, and now she was.When he saw her again, she would either be round with his child or happily carrying said child in her arms. Brandon refused to consider any other outcome.


	29. Elia IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another new chapter before this one! Don't skip it:)

They had been at Moat Cailin for only a week when they received word from Lord Hoster Tully that villages in the Riverlands were being raided and sacked. The culprits wore no colors and carried no sigils but the leader was described as being the largest man ever seen and cutting people in half with a giant sword. The man killed everyone he saw and raped nearly every woman he came across. When the description of the man was read, both Rhaegar and Lyanna had turned to look at Elia, unreadable expressions on their faces. Elia knew what they were thinking though, the same thing she was. This was the man who would have brutally murdered her and Aegon, Ser Gregor Clegane.

  
“The Lannisters have clearly made a move then. But why would they attack the Riverlands? Lord Hoster has done nothing so far to indicate which side he is on,” Elia spoke, hoping to end the looks on her loves’ faces.

  
“They assumed that since his daughter is my wife, Hoster would ally himself with us. It was a rather ignorant assumption to make though. The only thing Tywin has accomplished with this was to ensure that we would have the support of the Riverlands,” Ned commented. He picked up the letter again to reread it. “He’s given you another fifteen thousand men, Your Grace. As well as an offer to camp at Riverrun.”

  
Rhaegar was nodding, looking slightly relieved. “Excellent. Now we can cross at the Twins without having to force our way through. We’ll ride out in two days time.” He dismissed the war council after a few more instructions. Elia watched as the Northern lords gathered up scrolls and set out to inform the armies of the plans, leaving her in the room with her husband, Lyanna, Benjen, Ned, and the two Kingsguard members. As the last man left, Rhaegar turned to the Stark brothers with a serious look on his face. Elia and Lyanna shared an amused glance, having spoken with their husband about his plans and looking forward to the two men’s reactions.

  
“I’ve decided that if we are going to go through the trade agreements that have been drawn up, then the North needs another port city, on it’s western coast. And, after studying a map for days, it occurred to me that the best location for this port would be Sea Dragon Point,” her husband could barely contain his smirk at this, making Elia shake her head fondly. She knew he was actually somewhat nervous about the points he wanted to bring up with his good-brothers, but she and Lyanna had assured him they were good plans. And sure enough, Ned was nodding in approval.

  
“Yes. That would be a perfect location, actually. It’s central to the wolf’s wood and the mountains, so surrounded by natural resources. And it’s far south enough that the sea isn’t frozen and dangerous. Also, it’s only a few days ride from Winterfell.”

  
Rhaegar smiled in relief before continuing. “Of course, construction won’t begin until after the war and it will be paid for out of the royal coffers,” at this Ned began to protest before Rhaegar held up a hand. “Please, allow me to do this. Consider it a gift in thanks for everything you and the North are doing to aid me in this war.”

  
“Alright,” Ned agreed reluctantly.

  
“And, it is your decision as Warden of the North, but the new city will need a trusted man as it’s Lord.” With this, Rhaegar looked the youngest Stark in the room, Ned smiling slightly at his younger brother as he caught on.

  
“Me?” Benjen nearly yelped. “Are you both certain? Ned I don’t have a problem with remaining at Winterfell, truly.” 

  
“I would trust no one but you with this responsibility, Ben. And you could oversee the construction as well. Most importantly, you’ll still be close to Winterfell, little brother.” Ned clapped a smiling, blushing Benjen on the shoulder as Lyanna hugged him in congratulations.

  
“Good. Now that that is take care of, I also wanted to speak with you about betrothals for the children. As I said before, the Tyrells will likely want to ally with both of our families, as well as with the Martells.”

  
“Aye. I’m not particularly fond of the idea, the children are so young, but I understand the necessity. And it would be good to have all of the Great families allied together. Perhaps we can do tentative betrothals, as you said before. Fostering will give the children time to get to know each other, as well. I assume the Tyrells will want their daughter to be the future queen at the very least. They are promising the most men to the cause.” Ned pulled out some blank paper and began to list the children of the great houses.

  
“Perhaps we can agree to take Lady Margaery and Lord Garlan as our wards once they are a few years older. That way we can get a good idea of the girl’s character before promising Aegon to her and Garlan is close enough in age to the boys that it could foster a strong friendship.” Elia loathed the idea of using her children’s futures as political currency but there was little else to be done. The Usurper had a son as well and the Tyrells could just as easily decide to give him their daughter and their armies.

  
“It also keeps them from considering Viserys as an option to further their house,” Rhaegar added, guilt and resignation at odds in his tone as it always was in regards to his brother.

  
“If we offer them the Iron Throne for their future grandson, then a Tyrell for Rhaenys, Jon, or Daenerys is out of the question. One royal betrothal is enough. But they will probably want someone for their heir, Lord Willas as well.” Lyanna knew that they had all considered Rhaenys for the Tyrell heir because of their ages, but she truly believed they should not give Highgarden much more than a crown for their daughter.

  
“Well,” Ned spoke up, more than a bit of reluctance in his voice. “My Sansa could be an option.” He looked around at the shocked expressions and smiled slightly. “I know, I had not wanted to consider any betrothals but Robb’s. And Sansa is still so young, just nearing her fourth nameday. But she is already the perfect little lady, I think she would do well in Highgarden and Cat desires a southern marriage for her.”

  
“And Willas is six or seven years her senior. Could be he falls in love with another or the Tyrells decide they don’t want to wait after all,” Elia added in to comfort the doting father. Ned smiled at her gratefully, nodding in agreement.

  
“So the Targaryen Crown Prince and the eldest Stark daughter. Will that be sufficient or do you think their ambitions will demand a Martell as well?” Lyanna meant it as a joke but their husband had a considering look on his face. “Rhaegar! You can’t mean to offer Princess Arianne? Their son would be the consort to the Ruling Princess of Dorne!”

  
“I’m aware of that, and I would never presume to make arrangements for Doran’s children without his consent. But Lyanna, the Tyrells are giving us nearly 80,000 men. That’s more than our armies combined. If they decide to back the Usurper instead, we would lose and then we certainly won’t have to worry about betrothing our children to anyone.” Elia shuddered at the thought as Lyanna immediately backed down, knowing Rhaegar spoke the truth. He grabbed his younger wife’s hand to soothe the harsh point he had to make.

  
“Alright. I hate it, but it makes sense. Shall we write to Prince Doran for his opinion? And Ned perhaps you should write to your lady wife as well. For now, can we at least just consider Sansa and Arianne as options and agree not to mention them to the Tyrells just yet?”

  
“I agree,” Elia smiled at the younger woman. “Now. I believe we also need to consider who to put in charge of the Stormlands and the West once the war is over. Anything could happen, of course, but it will be good to have a plan.”

  
“Yes, which brings us to the fates of the surviving Lannisters and Baratheons should we win.” Rhaegar wanted to make certain they were all on the same page, here, Elia knew. He was not Tywin Lannister or Robert Baratheon. He would never condone the murder of women and children just because of the family they belong to. “Tywin will have to be put to death, else there will never be an end to the war, Robert as well.”

  
“And what of their children?” Benjen asked. “Ser Jaime is a Kingsguard. He could renew his vows or join the Night’s Watch. Cersei could perhaps be put under house arrest, or sent to exile.”

  
“I truly cannot see her becoming a Silent Sister, although I do find the idea intriguing,” Elia smirked. “And what of their brother, young Lord Tyrion. He is a child of what? Twelve, thirteen?”

  
“Aye. And hated by his father, or so they say.” Ned added Lord Tyrion to the list of eligible children before laughing a bit. “Just for the fact that he has his father’s hatred, we could keep him as the Lord of Casterly Rock.”

  
Rhaegar smiled grimly, “Yes, Lord Tywin would truly hate for his legacy to fall into the hands of his most hated child. Sounds perfect.”

  
“And Tywin’s grandchildren? They’re Robert’s heirs. They cannot be in a place of potential power. Or his brothers for that matter.” No matter how much she loathed Tywin Lannister, Elia didn’t want any harm to come to his grandchildren…even if they were half Baratheon. Lord Stark nodded along to her words.

  
“We’ll have to take them on as wards, or hostages to good behavior. His youngest brother as well, Renly is around Princess Rhaenys’ age I believe. We could always consider marrying them and installing them as Lord and Lady of Storm’s End.”

  
“No,” Lyanna objected. “I’m sorry, I just…I hate the idea of sending her to the brother of the man I ran away from.” She looked around, obviously seeking someone to agree with her. And of course, Elia and Rhaegar could not resist the pleading look in her big grey eyes.

  
“Do not fret, my love. We have other options for Rhaenys,” Rhaegar assured her. “I was actually considering Lord Hoster’s heir as well, he is of an age with her, only a bit older.” Lyanna nodded and relaxed back into her seat after having sat up to prepare for a battle of wills.

  
“For now, let us just decide to keep Lord Renly as a ward, like the others. If we raise him to be loyal to our family, surely we can install him back at Storm’s End. And Rhaegar, perhaps young Lord Edmure Tully can become your squire? And if Stannis Baratheon survives the war, he can be sent to the Wall.” Elia spoke with finality, hoping to be done with this conversation so she could go about cheering Lyanna up.

  
“Very well,” Rhaegar agreed. “We will send the ravens to Prince Doran and Lady Stark about betrothing their daughters to Tyrells, yes? I’m just glad to have a plan for when I meet with Olenna Tyrell.” With that, he and Ned packed up the scrolls as Benjen escorted her and Lya back to their rooms.

* * *

 

Later that evening found the three monarchs curled up in bed and still talking of their children’s futures, although much more lightly.

  
“I still don’t love the idea of signing away futures for children who have only just learned to speak in complete sentences. But at least it gives them time to get to know each other, I suppose,” Lyanna relented while running her fingers through Elia’s dark hair. Elia laughed and kissed the pout from the younger woman’s lips as Rhaegar spoke.

  
“That’s the spirit, my love. Optimism.”

  
“You know,” Elia began, a smile tugging at her mouth. “We don’t have very many children to use as political leverage. It’s truly shameful. I mean, think of all we could accomplish with a whole army of little princes and princesses…” She glance at her lovers suggestively, crawling over Lyanna to reach their husband and began plucking at the tunic he wore.

  
“You have a point, my love,” Lyanna caught on, moving her hands to the waistband of Rhaegar’s small clothes. “Nothing we can’t remedy though, young and in love as we are.” Rhaegar just laid back and watched as his wives divested him of his clothing before moving to help each other out of their own.

  
“Oh yes, and thankfully we happen to have a handsome, naked man in our bed. I’m sure he is just desperate to give us more children. Isn’t that right, your grace?” Elia softly asked as she climbed back on their bed, dragging Lyanna with her. A positively wolfish grin bloomed across Rhaegar’s face as he responded by pulling both women towards him.

 


	30. Rhaella III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the only new one! There are two more before it!

They had been riding for a week when they finally spotted the Twins. Truthfully, as the Tully’s had declared for Rhaegar, Walder Frey should allow them to pass through. But, as Rhaella told her son repeatedly, the repugnant lord would most likely require something of them. It didn’t help matters that one of Frey’s sons was married to Tywin Lannister’s sister.

  
So, the army set up for a break in riding just North of the Twins while Rhaegar gathered his best advisors to go and treat with Lord Walder. This group included her, her good-daughters, Ned Stark, Arthur, Oswell and of course, her son. Rhaegar wasn’t overly fond of bringing either of his wives with him, but both had insisted, and Rhaella pointed out that the old man would likely see it as an insult if the King kept him from meeting his Queens.

  
“Now, there is no way I am allowing any of my children to marry a Frey. Lord Stark, I’m assuming you feel the same?” The man nodded adamantly. “Right. I’d prefer for this not to turn into a negotiation but in case it does, just make it seem as if all of our children are already spoken for.” The others nodded before the sound of hoofbeats interrupted them. Rhaella turned toward the river and saw a group of four riders carrying the tower sigil of House Frey. She sighed, already dreading meeting with the man.

  
“We’re being summoned, my son,” she stated to Rhaegar, who nodded, jaw tense.

* * *

  
Once inside the keep, Rhaella had to keep careful control of her expression, not allowing anything more than a politely blank look to cross her features. Though she wanted to cringe and scowl at the sight of the overly crowded castle. There were mousy, chinless Freys everywhere, it seemed. Clearly, the Rebellion had not affected the Frey population as it had the rest of the Realm.

  
They were brought to the Great Hall where Lord Walder Frey himself sat upon a raised chair. The man had a vicious smirk on his sagging, lined face, eyes darting over all of them but straying often to her son’s wives. Next to the lord was a petite girl who couldn’t have been too many years older than Rhaenys. Rhaella felt her stomach roll at the thought of this poor girl being forced to marry the Lord of the Twins.

  
One of the riders who had retrieved them stepped forward toward his father…or grandfather. “My lord, may I present King Rhaegar Targaryen and his wives Queen Elia and Queen Lyanna, as well as the Queen Mother Rhaella, and Lord Eddard Stark.”

  
Lord Walder shooed the man away absently before moving his eyes to Rhaegar.

  
“Heh. Rhaegar Targaryen, back from the dead. And your pretty little wives, as well, yes. Two wives. Two sheaths for your sword. Anyone else would be tried by the Seven for this. Heh. But not a Targaryen. And now here you are, expecting me to give you something else.”

  
Rhaella noticed her son tense from the corner of her eye. She knew it must be taking everything he had not to kill the man where he sat. She could hear the tension in his voice when he addressed the man who had just insulted his wives. Behind him, Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell were just as tense, ready to strike at their King’s word.

  
“Lord Frey, we are merely passing through on our way to Riverrun. We don’t plan on taking up much of your time at all. Just allow our armies to cross the bridge and we will be out of your way. I made it clear in my declaration that no one would be required to fight for me and that their stance in this war was up to them or their leige lord.

  
“Heh. You want to cross my bridge, the least you can do is give me something in return. I have many daughters, Your Grace. Pick one. Take another Queen. Or, if you’d prefer, we can do a trade. One of my daughters for one of your pretty wives. Either will do, though I do prefer the younger girls,” he said this last bit with a leer at Lyanna and Rhaella closed her eyes in resignation, knowing Rhaegar will have lost his control.

  
“That is enough talk about the Queens. You will hold your tongue, Lord Frey, and let us pass. Lord Tully has already pledged fealty to me. So, though you may not want to fight for me, I am now the King ruling over the Riverlands, not Robert Baratheon. You answer to me.” Rhaegar ushered everyone out of the hall, making sure to keep Elia and Lyanna between himself and Ned. Before they stepped out of the doors, he turned back to face the scowling old man. “I vowed not to punish anyone who remains neutral and I stick by that vow. But if you attack my armies, your neutrality ends. I will remember this Lord Frey.”

* * *

 

  
Thankfully, they were left alone as they passed through the Crossing. Rhaegar made sure they rode until nightfall before setting up camp, wanting to be as far from the Freys as possible. They were halfway between Seaguard and Oldstones and had already swelled their ranks with Mallister soldiers. By the time they reached Riverrun in two days time, their numbers would grow further. And when the armies departed from the Tully keep to rid the Riverlands of Lannisters, Rhaegar would have 45,000 men to join with those of the Reach and Dorne. Everyone was thoroughly exhausted by the time they set up camp so Rhaegar decided to forgo a war council and instead, ushered his wives into their tent, where the three remained for the night.

  
Not quite ready to retire, Rhaella decided on a walk along the river. She had only taken a few steps when Ser Oswell joined her. Rhaegar had assigned him as her guard whenever he, Elia, and Lyanna were together, knowing that he himself and Arthur were protection enough for the Queens. She assumed Arthur was standing guard outside the King’s tent and she felt sympathy for the two men. She turned to the silent man behind her, beckoning him to keep pace with her and hooking her arm through his.

  
“You and Ser Arthur must be exhausted. Taking on the roles of the Kingsguard with just two Knights. Granted, two excellent knights.”

  
Oswell laughed gruffly. “It’s no problem, Your Grace. Though the King has spoken of choosing a man from each Kingdom to join our brotherhood.”

  
Rhaella raised her eyebrows slightly. She hadn’t known this, but it was a good idea. Another great way to tie the Kingdoms together. “So we have one from Dorne and one from the Riverlands and we are surrounded by Northmen. Have you decided on someone yet?”

  
“Ser Arthur and I have someone in mind. We’ve been watching the men spar and though there are many great warriors among the Northern armies, one stands out. He will have to be knighted first though, as the Northerners don’t typically follow that tradition.”

  
Rhaella didn’t press him on a name, figuring he wanted to tell Rhaegar first. Though she was deeply curious. She was curious about another matter as well.”And your opinions on your wayward brothers, Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan? Rumor claims they are on their way to pledge fealty to my son.”

  
Ser Oswell did not speak for a long moment before sighing loudly. “I haven’t allowed my opinion of Ser Barristan to truly take root. He is one of the best in the realm, but he betrayed your family when most of you were still in King’s Landing. As for Ser Jaime…he was so young when he was named to our brotherhood. The things he saw and experienced in service to King Aerys affected him greatly, I believe. He worried for you, especially, My Queen.”

  
Rhaella nodded, closing her eyes briefly to block out thoughts of her mad brother. Jaime Lannister’s face came to mind instead and she smiled softly. “Yes, I remember. He was assigned to me quite often. Aerys’ way of insulting Tywin further, I suppose. Having his golden son waste his skills and his life by trailing after a weak woman rather than defending the King.”

  
“You are not a weak woman, Your Grace. You faded away for awhile but you are back, stronger than ever and a great asset to our King.”

  
Rhaella felt herself blush slightly and grinned up at the knight. “Thank you, Ser. I do try to help Rhaegar however I can.”

  
“You already have. You raised him to be the good man that he is, the good King that he will be. A good King who will pardon both Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan and allow them to renew their vows, I’m sure.” Ser Oswell glanced at her, eyebrow raised in question.

  
“Yes I believe he will,” she murmured, pride and approval clear in her tone. The Queen Mother and the knight continued on in silence for another half hour before she was escorted back to her tent.

 


End file.
